The Search
by Giaans
Summary: Rose Weasley is an intelligent witch, silently searching for her identity when she notices that magic is beginning to disappear and she's the only one who knows. Now she must go on a journey to find the source of the disturbance and set things straight.
1. Chapter 1

Albus Severus Potter was several things, but he was not patient. He had no problem with wasting time or being lazy, but not when there were better places to waste time and be lazy at. Today, he was hoping to do both at the Hog's Head pub in Hogsmeade with his friends. Instead, he was searching through the dark and dusty depths of the library at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for his cousin, Rose. He turned another corner and yet--no sign of her. He sighed. Who spends a Saturday evening holed up in a library anyway? He made a mental note to set the girl straight as soon as possible.

"Albus?"

He whirled around at her voice.

"What are you doing here so late at night?"

"Better question--what are _you_ doing here so late at night?"

She looked confused and raised a dainty shoulder in a shrug. "It's a library. What do people usually do here?"

"Stop trying to be funny."

"Umm... yes, sir?"

She turned around and walked away from him, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket. A little more than frustrated, he went after her. "Rose, why are you in the library?"

"I'm working on my essay for the internship. I heard the committee in Peru prefers to take interns from South America, but if I turn my application in early enough, maybe I'll have better chances of--"

"Blah blah blah," Albus groaned. "Your chances of getting in are better than anyone else's in the _world _considering that your mother is the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the leader of the S.P.E.W. Revolution with the Department for Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, _and _your father was one of the key aurors who helped regain control after the Second Wizarding War--what are you worried about?"

She shot him an annoyed look over his shoulder and he was surprised that he had caught it in the semi-darkness surrounding them. "Albus, go away. You're annoying."

"Umm, no," Albus replied bluntly. "I came here to take you with me."

"Where to?"

"Hogsmeade. Jamie, Bradley and the rest of the gang wanted some light celebration--"

"Celebration?"

"Rose!" Albus stopped her with a hand on her shoulder and turned her around to face him. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Wha--?" She gasped, suddenly realizing what celebration they were talking about. She fumbled for her pocket watch and flipped it open. There were a little over two hours to her birthday.

"Albus, I have so much work to do!"

"You're coming."

"No, seriously--I have to finish this essay by the end of next week or else I won't have time with all the assignments coming up and what-not--"

He shook his head, stuffing his hands into his pocket. "Stop whining. We're not letting you stay behind."

She sighed and slowly smiled at him. "I'll meet you there."

He nodded triumphantly. "You better or I'll be dragging you all the way there--and trust me, that's not a very pleasant journey to make. See ya!"

She turned back to the bookshelf, intent on at least finishing the search before heading off to Hogsmeade. Knowing Albus, he would probably keep her up all night, roaming the streets of Hogsmeade--which they had visited well over fifty times in their stay at Hogwarts--or taking a large gang of friends for a midnight swim in the Lake. He liked tempting the monster that took up residence there--just for kicks.

She looked down at the piece of parchment in her hand to remind herself what she was looking for. "Practical Household Magic by Zamira Gulch," she read out loud. Why was she searching for a book of charms related to household chores? "That's odd." She bit her lip. Well... if she had written it down, she must have been looking for it for a reason. She held the paper on her palm before her and said, "Petio."

The parchment came to life, folding itself into an arrow, then zoomed off around the corner. She followed it down several corridoors, through a door, down the hallway and to a bookshelf on her right. When she caught up to it, she saw that it was floating in mid-air, sort of jerking back and forth as though wondering where it should go. Then, it began to unfurl and flutter in the air as though being attacked by a vicious wind and fell to the ground lifeless. "And that's even odder."

She picked up the parchment and opened it fully. The words she had scribbled upon it had disappeared. She frowned. This had never happened before. If the book was not in the library, the parchment would turn red and the letters changed to 'not available'. This parchment had led her to the section on household magic, but then had died out? She pulled out her quill from her robes and scribbled the book name onto it again: "Practical Household Magic--" The words disappeared as she wrote them. "What is wrong with you?" She muttered to the parchment. With a sigh, she decided to search the book for herself, glad that it had at least led her to the right section.

Half an hour later, she had searched through the entire section--nine bookcases on household magic with books from the 2nd century, and did not find it anywhere. She asked Mr. Trench who was the seventy-nine-year-old bookeeper in the library--rather shady in the brain, but quite sharp when it cames to the books in his care--and he also tried the Petio Charm to no avail.

"Are you sure... this book... exists, Miss Weasley?" He wheezed.

"I believe so, Mr. Trench," she replied politely. She had read about it in Zamira Gulch's autobiography.

"Zamira Gulch... did you say?"

She nodded.

"Hmm... Mrs. Gulch was only an affiliate with the Daily Prophet... way back when she used to give advice about common magical problems. I cannot remember her... publishing any books on the subject."

"Oh, but it was in her autobiography--"

"Really?" Mr. Trench looked legitimately surprised.

"Yes--Accio Gulch Autobiography." The book came flying to her from the desk she had been sitting at much deeper into the library. She flipped through the pages in the chapter labeled "My Contributions to the Magical World." She searched the page where she was sure she had read the title of the book and frowned when she did not see the words. Instead, there was an short expanse in the middle of the page where there were no words written. "That's odd--I could swear I read it in here..."

Then, right before her eyes, the words closed in on the blank line in the middle of the page, engulfing it. Her eyes widened as she stared at the phenomena and before she could think to do anything, the process was complete and the entire page was filled up with words again--no blank lines, no missing words, nothing. "This is... too odd."


	2. Chapter 2

When she stepped out of the snow storm blowing through the streets of Hogsmeade and into the Hog's Head an hour and a half later, it was to an uproar fit to burst anyone's eardrums. She stared at the crowd that was standing there—at least seventy people from all the houses and all the classes in Hogswarts, all yelling out their best wishes to her. She smiled, feeling her neck burn as she slowly stepped forward. Albus stood at the forefront of the crowd, looking prouder than a he had when he received eight Os on his OWLs.

"Albus, I'm going to kill you," Rose whispered with a smile plastered to her face as she walked up to Albus. One by one, several of her friends stepped forward to wish her a happy birthday personally. She thanked them, feeling her cheeks burn. She also noticed that there was a sizeable chunk of the crowd that was NOT stepping forward to wish her because--bluntly put--she had no idea who they were and doubted they knew who she was either. She finally turned back to Albus after quite some time. "Who are all these people--and I don't mean to sound ungrateful but why exactly are they here again?"

He gave her a typical Potter grin. She thought she heard at least three girls swoon--both the Potter sons tended to have that effect on them. "In my defense, I'd like to say that I didn't even invite them," Albus told her under his breath. "But this party--it was a much bigger deal throughout the school than I thought it was--I actually had to change venues last minute to keep many more people from coming."

"But why--"

Albus looked over her shoulder and smiled. "There's your answer."

"Hey, baby coz!"

"Oh, my God, James!" Rose lunged into her cousin's arms, hugging him tightly. His coat was warm and snow-free; she assumed he had apparated directly from wherever he had been. "I haven't seen you since you graduated nine months ago!"

James laughed (more girls swooned) and kissed her at her temple, then tousled her hair. "Turning seventeen finally? Damn, you're ancient! And where's the rest of the gang?" They both turned to Albus who turned slightly red.

"Err… well, Lily and Hugo are in detention."

"Detention?" Rose gasped, whirling around. "What're they doing there?"

"Cleaning the Slytherin toilets," Albus replied peevishly. "Er… they've been doing it for every weekend for about a month now."

"Ah, leave it up to Hugo to get them into the worst sort of trouble! Or was it Lily this time? Their stories are never clear—usually confuses me which one told which to do something stupid and which one refused to do it and which one in turn dared the other…. I think they complicat the stories just to confuse Mum." James looked slightly perplexed by his own analysis of the situation, then shrugged.

"What did they do? Who assigned the detention--how long is it for?"

"Oh, Rose, don't turn all motherly on them--you know Lily hates it when James does that."

Rose and James both scowled at Albus ."I don't MOTHER Lily..." James snapped at him. "She's just incredibly stupid somtimes and as her older brother, I feel it is my responsibility to watch over her."

"Well, it's all your fault, you know," Rose pointed out, smiling. "All the trouble you get yourself into--Hugo and Lily actually look up to you, can you believe that?"

"I know right? Don't know what they see in me!" James winked at her. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get myself a drink and talk to those pretty ladies over there."

She grinned as she watched him walk towards the girls who—all three of them—were about to faint for lack of air. "One word of the return of James Severus Potter and the entire school wanted to be there. Actually, Headmistress Scamander suggested that we hold the party in Hogwarts itself but considering you'd been locked up in the library for ages now, I thought it best to get you as far away from that place as possible. He always makes quite a scene of himself," Albus muttered good-humoredly.

"Like you're any better. Come on, I want a butterbeer--oh, hey, Victor! Thanks! I know, I've been spending too much time in the library. I'm so tired I can't even remember why I walked in there sometimes."

"Are you working on some mystery or something? I mean, of all the people I know, you visit that dingy old place most often, but seven hours on a Saturday is crazy even for you."

"No, I'm just—" she shrugged as they arrived at the bar table "—I'm just doing some research for that internship."

"Two butterbeers for Mr. Potter and the birthday girl!"

"Hey, Frank," Rose grinned at at the bartender--a young man with a completely bald head and a bright blue goatee. He nodded in return, his eyes twinkling with merriment and doubtless several mugs of his own butterbeer. He already had two mugs ready for them and set them on the counter with a slight butterbeer was warm and had a slighttouch of vanilla and nutmeg flavoring to it, just the way Rose liked it. She took a large gulp of it, feeling its warmth spread throughout her body. She looked out into the snow storm raging outside of the pub and was glad she had trekked all the way here despite the weather.

"Rosie!"

Rose turned to be ambushed by a wild bush of pale blonde hair. "Olivia," She gasped, awkwardly hugging the girl as she practically squeezed the breath out of her. "I'm so glad you could come!" Why did you come? You never really liked me all that much when you were dating—

"James insisted," Olivia waved her hand through the air as though it was nothing. "I mean, I'm graduating this year and I'm going back to Italy, so thought we'd meet up one last time! Oh, there he is now!"

Rose turned to see James whirl around the spot and make his way through the crowd in the opposite direction of the group, but Olivia was persistent as she had always been. "James, over here!" She yelled so loudly that half the room turned to look at her. Unable to pretend he hadn't heard her, James turned around with a large, overly fake smile plastered on his face.

"Olive—didn't even see you standing there!"

"Oh, stop lying, you," Olivia giggled. She took quick leave of Albus and Rose and practically flew to James's side.

"Poor chap," Rose grinned. "He'll wish he had never come here now."

"You'd think that after all that happened, she would get a hint," Albus mused. "Then again, we ARE speaking of Olive. Oh, whoops! Forgot I wasn't supposed to call her that! Only his royal highness, Lord James can call his petty-pookie by that name."

"Stop," Rose laughed at the ridiculous tone of his voice.

"Oh, shoot, almost forgot—" Albus jumped to his feet and disappeared through the crowd, leaving Rose staring after him, slightly perplexed.

"Want another one, pretty little lady?" Frank gave her a toothy grin that was half rotten. She emptied out her butterbeer and slammed the mug down. "Think I brought just enough, so fill 'er up, Frankie."

"Actually, miss, this one's already been paid for."

"What?" Rose frowned. "Albus?"

"Course it ain't your cousin. You're a pretty gal, lotsa' guys here who'd like to pay for your drink."

"Can I get a name, Frankie?" Rose smiled.

"Wish I could tell ya' it was me, hot stuff, but it was actually that guy standing over in the corner there."

Rose turned to look in the direction that Frankie was pointing. At first, she didn't see anything but then her eyes fell on the figure half-hidden by the shadows beside the door that led down to the cellar. She turned away, realizing he was looking directly at her, and stared into her butterbeer instead. She should go talk to him... then again, he was the one who had chosen to pay for her drink. She didn't really ask him... but he DID pay for it. She should at least thank him. She hated it when strangers put her in these kind of situations. Finally, with a deep breath, she rose to her feet, frowning, and made her way towards him. He did not make a move.

"Hi," She smiled. He didn't say anything. "Umm... do I know you?"

He wore a dark hoodie that hung low over his eyes and helped him blend in almost perfectly with the darkness. She squinted and involuntarily stepped closer to get a better look at him but he simply retreated further into the darkness. "Frank said that you--umm-paid for my drink, so I just came by to thank you. I'm Rose."

"Perfect timing."

"Umm..." She looked back longingly at the stool she had been sitting on. She didn't do well with introductions or small talk, especially since this stranger was not actually bothering to make sense. Deciding to give him one more chance, she asked, "Perfect timing for what?"

"Do you know there are exactly ten seconds left till midnight?"

She frowned and looked down at the wrist-watch she wore whenever she was outside of Hogwarts where Muggle technology did not work. Sure enough, the seconds hand was moving closer and closer to the number '12' in—eight seconds, seven, six—she looked up again to realize he was smiling down at her very softly. "Yes...?"

"I have a present for you."

Before she could react, he grabbed her by the waist, swinging her into the darkness and lowered his lips to hers. Her hand dived into her pocket for her wand in a second, but the moment they touched, all thoughts of resistance abandoned her mind. His lips were so gentle and slow upon hers, tasting her with the utmost care. She closed her eyes, feeling as though the world around them had dropped away into blackness and it was only the two of them caught in this tender embrace. She drew her hand up to his cheek and her other arm around his neck, pulling him closer but that was where he stopped. Slowly, he pulled just a fraction of an inch away, his warm breath fanning over her face—almost intoxicating to the senses. His hand left her waist and traveled to meet hers upon his cheek. He pulled her fingers away and placed a small square box tied with white ribbon upon her palm. "Happy birthday," he whispered.

Before she could even think again, he disappeared through the cellar doors and into the darkness beyond. She blinked, simply staring after him, then shouted out, "Wait!"

She rushed down the stairs after him, slightly slipping on the damp rock and landed rather shakily on her feet at the bottom. She looked around in the darkness, squinting to force her eyes to accommodate to the lack of light. He was nowhere to be found. She sighed in frustration. "Damn you," she whispered to the darkness. "Damn you and your stupid birthday gift. It didn't affect me at all if you're wondering. And no, I won't ever think of you again in my life because my encounterance with you was just that boring. So… damn you." She wasn't exactly sure why she had said all that, but she had a feeling it was more to herself than to him. She looked down at her hand which held the small box he had given her. With another exhasperated sigh, she carefully made her way back up the stairs and into the crowd.

"Rose, where you been? I got a surprise for you--!"

He smiled up the stairs, listening to her cousin as he brought out the cake he had stored in the kitchen for her and called for everyone's attention. He hummed the tune to the birthday song along with the rest of the crowd, then turned away, clapping his hands. "You'll think of me, Rose Weasley. And worry not, we shall meet again very soon."

(0)

"Scorpius!?" Rose slapped her hand to her forehead at the sheer stupidity of the situation. "Scorpius Malfoy was the one who threw you off your broom? Are you kidding me, Albus?"

"Hey, the guy rides well! What do you want me to say?" Albus was more than a little irritated by his defeat at the Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor that had occurred only a few hours ago.

"I want you to say, 'I would die before I let Scorpius Malfoy beat me at anything considering that his father was the mortal enemy of our parents while they were at school'—that's what I want you to say. Now hold still, those jeans are not going to mend themselves after your fall down thre flights of bleachers."

"Good ol' Spike caught me nonetheless," Albus grinned, patting his battered broom fondly. "Never lets me down, my gal. Not in the eight years that I've owned it. Remember that one time when I was trying to veer around Fat Pam in the Hufflepuff match to get to the crazy bludger—Rose? Rose, you still with us?"

Rose's eyes snapped up to his and she blinked blankly.

"You… look kind of confused… you okay?" Albus stated.

"I'm fine." She shrugged after a moment. She tucked her wand into her robes and stood up abruptly. "I remember the time with Fat Pam, Albus, and yes, good ol' Spike has seen you through a lot, that's for sure."

"Don't walk away from me now—who's going to mend my jeans? I don't even know how to do it!"

"Well, you better learn, Albus Potter. I'm not going to be here to mother you for the rest of your life."

"No, I've got Mother to take care of that," Albus muttered, staring down at the wide tear in his jeans that ran down all the way from his knee to his ankle. "Rosie, where are you going?"

"Library. Wanna come with?"

"Nah, I think I'd rather go have dinner with the Slytherins."

"You better," Rose grinned, turning around at the door with her backpack swung over her shoulder. "It's tradition—losers allow the winner full rights to an entire evening of gloating."

"Stupid tradition," Albus scoffed.

"You started it."

"Because your dearest Mum thinks developing good relationships with our peers—despite their familial background and their House—is the key to a healthy, problem-free community."

Rose laughed, "Don't look now, but you actually sound like you're believing it."She knew that was not the main reason Albus had started the tradition and many others to increase relations between the houses. He was not the type to get involved with drama or conflict and preferred to be friendly with everyone whether he actually liked them or not. She didn't think there was a single perosn in the entire school who actually DISliked Albus, a characteristic that she much envied. It wasn't that she knew anyone who disliked her either--except for Malfoy--but he had always been able to make friends so quickly with any number of strangers. Simply put, he was a charmer and it kept his life uncomplicated and enjoyable according to him.

"Believe it, bull shit. I do it only because Dad and Uncle Ron said it was a good idea too, however grudging their words sounded. Rose, can't you take a little break and join us? You'd be a good buffer, trust me!"

"Err, between you and Scorpius?"

Albus opened his mouth and then closed it when Rose quirked a challenging eyebrow. "Okay, well perhaps not with Socrpius, but you're pretty close to some of the girls in Slytherin."

"Not… as close as you are."

"Point being, there's a perfect reason for you to be there. You've been going to the library so much people have been wondering if you transferred schools. Besides, I need the moral support."

"Albus, I have work to do."

"And you know, Hugo and Lily will be there too because Lily's on the Quidditch team. You've been trying to get a hold of them all week long, maybe this is the perfect opportunity for you to be able to yell at them to your heart's content for whatever mischief they have now done to land themselves in detention?"

Rose pondered the thought for a moment. "Hmm… peacefully do my own work in the library or be accused of being too overprotective by my younger brother and cousin?"

"I'll help if you want. I think it's time I finally stepped into the elder brother's role."

"You being overprotective is like the banshee dancing with joy."

"That was a terrible analogy."

She shrugged. "Served its purpose."

"Of… proving that you come up with terrible analogies?"

"Fair enough. Fine, let's go get dinner."


	3. Chapter 3

"And here comes the last member of the team—Albus Potter!"

Scorpius turned to grin at the fellow classmate when he saw her standing beside him. The smile dropped from his lips quickly as though gravity itself had acted upon it. He gave her a curt nod and turned away. "Albus, no hard feelings about the match?"

"Of course not," Albus grinned as he sat down across from him. "It was a pity fall, Scorp."

"Is that so?"

"Oh, you think you could've actually thrown me off my broom on your own?"

"That's what surprised me so much," Scorpius replied, sarcasm hanging thick on his words. "The

famous Harry Potter's son being thrown off his broom by a mere Seeker? A measley little Slytherin?"

"Like I said, pity fall. Always looking out for the reputation of my rivals."

"At least you've got some talent," Patrick Parkinson grinned at Scorpius's side. "Weasley, on the other hand, was so terrible that I heard he didn't make it past first rounds of try-outs!"

Rose looked up sharply but bit her tongue to keep herself from saying anything. They were talking not about her, but her brother who had tried out for the Quidditch team early this year. He had been good--better than good. The Gryffindor captain, Rosalind Freeman, had begged him to fly for the team as a Chaser. He had turned it down though. He had tried out because Ginny had bothered him all summer, but he was not much for the 'popularity' games.

Albus laughed, "Hugo would fly circles around you and win the game before you even get all the way up in the air, Pat."

"Sounds like a challenge!" Pat sneered.

"Whoo-hoo--how about it? Hugo, Albus, Rose, and Lily against Scorpius, Pat, Gwen, and Ralph?"

"Oh, I don't play," Rose replied quickly.

"Scared, Weasley?" Scorpius said so softly that few people caught it. Rose gritted her teeth, looking at him, but he didn't match her gaze. Instead, he continued his work on his pumpkin soup as though nothing was happening around him. She felt like punching the arrogance right out of his smug face, but that would serve no purpose... other than relieving her intense hatred for him.

"Unlike some people, I know how to pick my battles, Malfoy," Rose replied calmly, referring to their first meeting at the entrance to Hogwarts over six years ago. "My brother got the Weasley genes for flying, but I'm afraid I got the short end of the stick. I'll be sure to cheer him on as he beats you, though, don't worry."

He did look up then, his silver eyes completely unreadable. She was no coward. She didn't look away. She sensed the volume of the conversations around them drop by at least three levels as everyone held their breath, waiting for the next move.

"Rose!"

Like a whip-crack, the tension was sliced by the single word. Scorpius turned back with a smile to the girl he had been conversing with before Albus and Rose had arrived and conversations resumed at their fullest capacity. Rose turned to the girl who had just called out her name from further down the table. She smiled and walked over to her.

"I believe you just saved Hogwarts from The Third Wizarding War, Carla."

Rose frowned at her best friend of four years, Jamie, as she seated herself in front of her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Honey, the moment you walked in this room and towards the Slytherin table, every eye was following you. If Carla hadn't called out your name—" Jamie didn't bother to finish the sentence. She simply dug into her steamed carrots and let Rose roll her eyes at her.

"Nothing was going to happen. Malfoy doesn't even have the backbone to win a Quidditch match fairly."

"Mm-hmm," Jamie drawled out in her sharp American accent--one of the many characteristics about her that seemed to draw guys in like bees to honey.

"I don't know about the Quidditch match, but Scorp looked just about ready to challenge you to a duel, Rose," Carla said matter-of-factly, helping herself to the third portion of strawberry cheesecake. She stuffed it into her mouth and turned to Rose, looking slightly like a cow as she chewed it with her large black eyes wide open.

I'D LIKE TO SEE HIM TRY, Rose though. "Anyways, what did you call me over for?"

"Other than the obvious reason," Carla mumbled. She gulped down her food with a swig of juice and turned back to Rose. "I was talking to Professor Scamander about our lecture on Magical Creatures of the Ancient West and he gave me this amazing Muggle book about all these creation myths of the tribes that resided there centuries ago. I mean, most of their myths are considered pure fantasy, right? But according to Professor Scamander, some of these creatures actually did exist long long long long long time back!"

"It's not about existing or not existing, Carla," Rose replied, feeling her pulse quicken with excitement at the topic of the conversation. "People believe things so much sometimes that whether something existed or not, they twist their situations to make it exist."

"No, Rose, these things actually did exist. Just look—" She reached for her backpack at her feet and pulled out several loose sheets of parchment. "An exerpt from the bible that talks about dragons—creatures we know exist—and about another creature that can crush dragons beneath its foot! Crush it! And look at this. It's out of this one autobiography of the grandson of a chief of a Native American tribe—he talks about his clan believing in unicorns and even more powerful creatures… like the Re'em."

Rose snorted in a very unlady-like manner. "The Re'em is a mythological creature."

"Rose," Jamie interrupted, leaning forward. "Muggles don't believe—no, they are positive—that dragons and unicorns don't exist but we study them like they study evolution in their classrooms. Why can't you believe that something might exist that we don't think does? Like… I don't know, pixies."

Rose opened her mouth to reiterate and stopped. "What did you say?"

Jamie looked at Carla, then back at Rose. "Pixies…? Why, did I say something wrong?"

"You don't believe in Pixies?" Rose asked, knowing it was a joke. "Good one."

"Wait, you do?" Jamie laughed, looking as though she just found out her grandmother still believes in Santa Clause. "Pixies don't exist, Rose."

"Yeah, very funny—"

"What's so funny about it?" Carla piped up, also looking at Rose as though she was crazy.

"I see the point you're making," Jamie chuckled. "Just like I was saying—pixies can exist, we just don't know about them yet."

"Pixies were one of the first Magical creatures we studied at Hogwarts—third lecture of the second year of Care of Magical Creatures."

"Wouldn't that be amazing!" Jamie sighed, returning her attention to her pudding.

"Jamie," Rose scoffed. She turned to Carla whose expression did not comfort her all that much over Jamie's. "Okay, you know what, you guys? If you want to continue being childish and playing this stupid joke on me, go ahead. I'd rather eat dinner and just head back to the library—lots of work to do. Toodles." She did not catch the bewildered looks on her friends' faces as she turned around and walked back to her previous spot. She dropped back into her chair and was about to reach for some food when a thought struck her. She reached down for her backpack at her feet, pulled out her Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures, and flipped to the index. Her fingers trailed down the list of names. Nundu, Occamy, Phoenix, Plimpy, Pogrebin… she blinked and read the list again. No 'pixie'.

She flipped through the pages to between the chapters on the Phoenix and the Plimpy. Page 289 was the last one on the Phoenix, then thirteen blank pages after which the Plimpy began on page 302.

"Wha--?" She let her fingers trail over the empty pages. Where did the Pixie entry go? Then, as she watched, the blank pages disappeared completely from beneath her fingers, just disintegrating into invisible dust. Page 289—Phoenix. Page 290—Plimpy.

"Rose. Rose!"

She snapped out of the daze and looked up at Emanuel Swanston, a sixth year Slytherin who had liked Rose for over two years now and was nervously holding out a platter of cheesecake for her. "W-Would you like some?"

She smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. "N-No thank you, I'm kind of full. Albus—" She turned to see the entire table staring at her silently. She cleared her throat, her heart hammering inside her chest. "I-I'll be in the library," she whispered to him. Without looking at another face, she grabbed her backpack, clutched the Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures to her chest, and practically ran out of the dining hall.

"Pixie," she whispered the word to herself over and over all the way up the stairs and down the corridors to the library. She was afraid that if she did not repeat it to herself, she would forget it. "Pixie… pixie…"

She ran past the Mr. Trench who was snoring rather loudly at the front desk, and into the Magical Creatures section of the library. She made her way to section P and searched—"Pixie, pixie, pixie…" Nothing. Gritting her teeth, she reached for encyclopedia after another. No entries of pixies.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" She said not too quietly.

"Hey, keep it down," a student whispered around the corner.

Rose's palms were sweaty. She gulped as her throat suddenly felt dry as though she had eaten a palmful of sand. She rounded the corner and found the young girl—perhaps a second year—sitting at a table next to the window.

"Have you studied the pixie yet in your Care of Magical Creatures class?"

"The what?"

No, no, no… this couldn't be happening. "The pixie… little blue creature with wings—likes pranking people?"

"I don't what you're talking about," the girl replied rather snootily. She looked Rose up and down, rolled her eyes, and returned to her book. Rose remained frozen to the spot for quite some time, then slowly went back to the table where she had spread over fifteen books in search of any mention of a pixie. Her own Encyclopedia lay in the middle, sprawled open to page 289 and 290. Rose touched the pages again and closed her eyes.

Among some of the most pesty creatures known on the planet are the pixie… the words were imprinted into her mind as clearly as Jamie's face telling her she honestly did not think Pixies existed. Chewing the inside of her lip, she pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote 'Pixies' in large block letters on it. "You guys exist," she told the parchment. "So where the hell did you go?"


	4. Chapter 4

When she ran to the Forbidden Forest the next morning, barely making it on time to her 9:00 AM Care of Magical Creatures class, she knew she did not look her best. Her brown hair was in a thick braid that had not been done properly and stuck out at odd angles, she carried her robes on her arm because she had not had time to put it on in the morning, and she doubted whether she was wearing the same socks on her feet but was too tired to check. She arrived at the edge of the Forest where the Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh-years had gathered, seeked out her usual crowd and dropped her backpack next to Albus. With a sigh, she fell into place.

"Wow, Rose--"

"Don't," Rose warned Albus, pushing her bangs out of her face and pinning them in place. "I woke up ten minutes ago in the library after only two hours of an awful sleep--"

"We can tell!"

"Hey, don't make me punch you!" It was her usual empty threat, but it made her feel better most of the time. "I'm perfectly capable of putting a bruise around your eye--"

"I think half the girls in the school--including the teachers--will come after you in the dead of the night with axes if you do that," Jamie laughed, stretching her legs out and leaning against her backpack.

Albus turned to her with a pensive look on his face. "Would you be one of those girls, Jamie?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him. "Keep dreaming."

Albus served her come-back justice by looking put-out by her lack of feelings for him. At that precise moment, Professor Rolf Scamander walked into sight, looking more of a mess than Rose felt, but that was normal. His robes were not pulled on right and were sticking into his pants at the back, he had a large pile of books in his arm that were perilously close to tumbling to the ground and his glasses were skewed on his face. He muttered to himself inchoherently, searching for a place to put his books, then just let them drop to the ground. With a satisfied smile, he finally looked up to see his class staring at him expectantly.

"Oh, my," he laughed nervously, "You can teach for well over ten years and still not get used to all the attention--ha ha."

Some people laughed sympathetically along with him. Others just gave him pity smiles. "The misses loves teaching a lot more than I do--everyone should take her class if at all possible--oh, I guess it's too late now, huh? You're all graduating! At the end of this year! Mm hmm... q-quite exciting, I know. Well..." He patted at the pockets of his robes absent-mindedly, then realized that they were not pulled on right and fixed them rather awkwardly in front of his students. "Now... where did those glasses go--Ah!" He patted the glasses into place on the bridge of his crooked nose and cleared his throat.

Professor Scamander, son of Newt Scamander who had written several books on Magical Creatures, and his wife, Luna, were walking, talking jokes among most students at Hogwarts. Rolf had been subject to prank after prank by the younger students since he had began teaching here and took it all with very good humor. His wife, Luna, was no less. Fewer people pranked her, however, because if they were caught, she would pull them into her office to praise their efforts and discuss some odd creature or spell that would have been an excellent addition to the prank--'far more effective' in her words. Most students began thinking she was too odd and strange in the head to be a Headmistress. By the end of their second year at the latest, however, they would appreciate her incredible sense of humor and creativity and begin to think more like her--not always appreciated by the parents, but very helpful in the classrooms.

It was no doubt, however, that either of them shirked their responsibilites when it came down to it. Rolf might be reminiscent of an absent-minded professor most of the time, but when he began speaking of his specialization in the Magical Creatures of the world, it was obvious that his knowledge expanded far beyond any other living beings'. After all, he had studied them 'since he was in his mother's womb' according to him. That was why, Rose prayed, he would be the one person to know about the existence of Pixies if there was anyone.

Rose barely paid attention as he introduced the topic of the class that day—Unicorns! Yes, very interesting creatures, very fascinating too and she had been so looking forward for today's lecture, but after last night, all her interest and attention seemed to be focused on Pixies. Halfway through his lecture, a Ministry official arrived with one of the beautiful white horses. A general buzz of excitement sang through the crowd that was gathered around the animal now. Rose found herself staring at the Unicorn with a soft smile on her face despite the worry on her mind.

"Okay, so each of you—in pairs—will get to come up and examine the animal for exactly ten minutes. The assignment is described in your workbooks, please pay special attention to the note on page 338. Grown unicorns prefer female presence more than males. So each of you will be paired with a member of the opposite gender. There is no physical danger to you from the unicorn—they are incredibly tame creatures. However, note that if the creature happens to appear nervous, let the female subdue it—guys, back off."

There was a general grumbling through the males in the crowd. Everyone wanted to observe the fascinating, sparkling creature before them. Its head was thrust proudly into the air, but there was a certain kindness and warmth in its eyes that was mesmerizing. Its single white horn sparkled, catching the non-existent sunlight as though it were glowing of its own accord. It neighed softly and bent down to pick at the grass at its feet.

Rose was never paired with Albus. Teachers often looked at the cousins—both incredibly smart, both more than comfortable with each other, and yet so uncomfortable for the outside eye when paired together because Albus was the over-the-top extravert and Rose was the calm and content introvert—and decided they must be split apart to be fair to the rest of the students. Today, she was paired with Bradley Moors who was what Rose liked to call an old-fashioned Slytherin. In other words, he still held on firmly to the typical Slytherin characteristics of believing that pure-blood witches and wizards were inherently better than all else. Most of them were that way still, but at least managed to put up a façade to respect the encouragement—not rules—that the faculty at the school provided them with. There were always some, of course, who didn't give a damn about the rules. Bradley did not speak with anyone but his own pure-blood Slytherin friends. She guessed she should be happy that he wasn't openly offensive about his view-points, though. If he'd rather eat his own foot than talk to her—she was a fourth Muggle—then that was perfectly fine with her. She liked her solitude.

She opened her workbook as they awaited their turn and pulled out her quill. She looked up to see that Professor Scamander was working with the first pair of students with the animal. The girl squealed in surprise as the Unicorn leaned into her outstretched hand. Rose smiled, shaking her head slightly. She would have to wait until Professor Scamander was free to approach him.

"Hey, watchu get for number three?"

Rose jumped slightly hearing Bradley's voice. He looked at her with bored eyes as he lay stretched out against a rock, his workbook in his hand. She looked down at her own answers. "Umm… their tail hair can be used in wands, to make the strongest of ropes, sometimes really expensive shirts—but it's usually refined and combined with other material like silk—"

"Yeah, yeah." He was not even remotely interested. He scribbled down the answers and didn't look at her again.

She wanted to smile—wasn't quite sure exactly why she wanted to smile, but she turned away again and continued to work.

It was too often that she would look up and be captured by the gaze of the strangely fascinating creature standing only a few yards away from her. It wasn't young, but it wasn't quite an adult yet—she could tell by the way it seemed to shy away from the boys, leaning more towards the girls or sometimes the teacher. And then, every so often, it would turn to look directly at Rose almost as though it were begging her to come save it from the un-favored presences. She scoffed slightly. What a silly observation to make. She was more sleep-deprived than she thought she had been to imagine emotions on the gently sloped face of the unicorn… especially emotions directed towards her. Perhaps she was just a little too eager to go examine it herself…

"Rose, Bradly, you're up next," Professor Scamander nodded towards them nervously. It was apparently taking more effort on his part to keep the students from startling the creature too much. He was sweating profusely from having to maintain a firm grip on it. "I thought they said they'd give me a more mature animal," he was muttering to himself as Rose and Bradley walked towards the pen, waiting for the other pair to leave. Her nerves jumped into hyper-drive as she turned to the professor. She should speak to him now… but he was busy! _And Bradley is standing way too close—he'll be able to hear everything and _then_ what will he think of me? It's stupid enough that he hates me so much already, I don't need to give him any reason to think I'm insane… talking about Pixies and all._

"Its tail is so long!"

Rose always knew Gwen Tribolt was a little air-headed as she walked around the Hogwarts halls with perfectly tailored robes that were intentionally a little too tight-fitting for a school uniform and bouncy blonde curls that gleamed unnaturally around her round face. She wondered at how the girl could be surviving through Hogwarts—there were at least five guys hovering around her every second of the day, somehow fascinated by the lack of a single strand of knowledge beneath all that outward perfection. Even now, she proved her stupidity by walking around the unicorn, standing directly behind it—an act that was already sending the creature into nervous fits—and then yanking at its tail.

The Unicorn reared up on its hind-legs with a bellowed cry. Professor Scamander jumped forward as did Rose in her rising alarm. Her heart was hammering as fast as the Unicorn's must have been as she reached for the creature's silver neck but before either of them could get to the creature, another set of hands were already reaching up to it. Rose hadn't noticed that Scorpius was Gwen's partner. Go figure—pair the stupidest students in the class together, she thought rather unfairly. She quickly corrected her thinking. Scorpius was not unintelligent. He was anything _but_ that. To be fair, all these seven years, he had given her a good run for her ranking in her classes. A fair competition that she grudgingly admitted she couldn't beat all the time.

So she assumed that must have been why he could calm the Unicorn down so quickly. His hands gently tugged at its mane as its hooves thudded into the ground with startling strength. Its eyes were wide and darted around cautiously, but Professor Scamander had already pulled Gwen away, placing her in clear view of the creature again, so the panic cooled in its eyes. Scorpius whispered into the unicorn's ear, his hands rubbing its neck down and as they all watched, the creature calmed down and neighed with only a hint of nerves rippling through its throat.

"There," Scorpius grinned as he looked into its eyes. "What were you so scared of?"

His hand trailed down the creature's nose, light and gentle. The unicorn closed its eyes appreciatively.

"Well! I think that accounts for at least twenty points towards Slytherin, Scorpius!" Professor Scamander sounded awed as he patted Scorpius on the shoulder, a quivering smile breaking onto his pale face.

Scorpius just nodded at him, his arrogant expression back in place to stay. Gwen gasped in delicate fear as they walked back to their spot among the rest of the students—several of whom were eagerly waiting to congratulate Scorpius. Rose could already hear the girl telling her friends about what exactly had happened—how she had just been examining the 'stupid thing's' tail for the workbook and then, with every intent to murder her, surely, it had reared up on its legs, screaming with fury. Scorpius didn't bother to correct her as he returned to his workbook again, looking bored. Rose looked at Bradley who wore a startlingly similar expression—only slightly more disgusting on his face. She shook her head and turned away. Two peas in a pod, she thought to herself.

"All right, I think we should give her some space," Professor Scamander said as he turned to them now, still looking rather nervous as was his usual expression. "If you two don't mind, perhaps you could discuss the assignment with your friends?"

Bradley shrugged. Rose looked longingly towards the creature, realizing how intently she had been looking forward to touching that shimmering skin and running her fingers through the silky mane. But he was right—already it looked nervous again, leaning away from the group. As Bradley turned to leave, Rose realized suddenly that she had another reason for speaking to Professor Scamander today. She shook her head slightly to clear it from the overwhelming disappointment she felt when she looked into the creature's dark eyes, and turned back to the Professor.

"I—erm—actually had a question… somewhat unrelated to the lesson."

She was glad Bradley had already left. Professor Scamander turned to her, always holding a smile for one of his star pupils, and said, "Yes, my dear, what is it?"

Here goes nothing. "Well," she took a deep breath, looking down at her workbook as though she were searching for the question, "I was just looking at some of the creatures we studied long ago for the NEWTs and I noticed that my notes on the Pixies were not very good, and I was wondering if you could give me some pointers."

She chanced a look at the Professor's face then, her heart hammering.

He laughed aloud. "Pixies?" he said not too quietly. "What an excellent joke, Rose!"

She stared at him blankly, her heart dropping out of her chest. Not him too… she gulped. Was she really going insane? Was the whole world playing some sort of sick joke on her? This couldn't be happening!

"Oh, Rose, you do crack me up sometimes. I'm sure no _mythical _creatures will be on the NEWTs, dear, don't worry about it."

Rose felt herself blush, but she couldn't blame him—it wasn't like she had asked him to not announce to the world that she was probably insane. She had desperately been hoping he would announce the opposite actually. What she wouldn't do to just bury herself into the ground right now. She nodded, managing to pull the weakest of smiles onto her face. "A-anytime, Professor," she whispered. He patted her on the back.

"Thank you, I really needed that." He shot a wary look towards the unicorn which had backed away several paces and was now shaking its head in a fidgeting manner. "I guess I will just have to call the Ministry official back and… have him take her away. Pity, I was really hoping you all would get to examine her personally—fascinating creatures, these unicorns. Did you know I spent four years studying their increase in population in the east coast of the United States? They actually manage to conceal somehow. They have incredible magical capabilities and all—"

Rose barely heard him. All she could think of were Pixies.

As she turned to return to her bag, she saw Albus looking towards her. She had been avoiding his gaze—along with everyone else's—in fear of what she would see there. It was almost as bad as she had thought it would be. There was a slight bit of guilt lurking in his eyes and he looked almost apologetic. At least he wasn't looking at her like she was insane. She shrugged towards him. Then her eyes wandered to Jamie's as she sat next to him and she frowned. Jamie was not looking at Rose, but was staring with absolute concentration at a random piece of grass at her feet, her eyebrows crinkled over her lowered eyes. She looked worried.

Rose sighed. She was going insane. There was no other option. Perhaps all that time in the library… not enough sleep, studying everything and anything that came across her mind in preparation for the NEWTs. Had she accidentally studied the Pixies in the Magical Myths book? Was that what triggered this string of insanity? She realized there were so many reasons for her to be losing her mind. With a hint of panic, she looked forward the Christmas break in a week and a half. It was exactly what she needed—a break from all this stress. Yes, she told herself with a deep breath. She would feel much better once she was home with her family and could relax properly. She _had_ to feel better. Insanity was not her forte.


	5. Chapter 5

**So, this chapter's kinda' long... and it was also quick in the making. I guess I'm trying to just make up for the slow postings that are bound to come later on as I'll be getting somewhat busy very soon. I just request you to be patient with me. =) I have a lot of the story written and am in the process of refining it for your excellently-critical eyes! (Yes, that is encouragement to be critical of the work as I'm still a beginning writer and I want any and all help I can get from wonderful reviewers like you!) I sound like a commercial. Great. =) Enjoy the chapter!**

The Weasley-Potter family gatherings were known for being loud, messy, and often marked with mayhem. This was expected, after all, considering that the total head-count added up to a grand twenty-three and five sets of families. As Rose walked through the front doors of 12 Grimmauld Place, the Potter's place of residence which was the only mansion capable of housing all the families put together, it was to what she liked to call "the silence before the storm" as most of the members had not quite arrived yet. The large hallway lit by a series of zig-zagged lanterns hanging over-head and lined with a rich red carpet on the ground and family pictures on the walls was the most welcoming sight she had seen in her life. She dropped her backpack next to the thick stump-like coat stand that had been with the house forever. "Mum? Daddy?"

Ronald Weasley--tall, lanky, and topped with a bush of red hair that was only now beginning to thin--came around the corner to see his daughter bounding towards him. He exclaimed in surprise as she jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck. "Oh-ho!" He laughed, kissing her on the head. "Who is this stranger in the house--I don't think I've ever seen her before."

"You say that every time I come home," She grinned and kissed him on the cheek.

"I say it because you leave for school and come back a year older and all that much more beautiful! Now where're my _real_ kids who celebrate their birthdays with their old man instead of running off to school?"

"They should be here soon! Albus is driving them home 'cuz, you know, they can't apparate yet which is a complete nuisance, of course."

"You know, in my days, we weren't allowed to get our Apparition license till we were seventeen. You guys are lucky to have that one year earlier--"

"Rosie!"

Hermione Granger appeared in the hallway with her thick brown hair pulled back into a messy bun and an apron tied around the gentler curves of her aging body. Her brown eyes sparkling with tears, she ran forward to pull her daughter into her arms. "Oh, Mum, are you crying again?"

"As she always does whenever you leave for school _and_ when you come back," Ron sighed, patting his wife on the shoulder.

"Oh, be quiet, there's nothing wrong with missing your child." Hermione sniffled, pulling Rose away to view her at arm's length. "How was your seventeenth birthday? I heard James came. That devil--Ginny was just saying how he never visits his own mother, but comes bounding for his cousin's birthday."

"Mum was lying, Aunt Hermione." James appeared with a distinct pop directly behind Hermione. She jumped slightly and whirled around to be met with a toothy grin. "I visit her at least once a month. She just exaggerates it because she wants me to stay at home and live the rest of my life with her."

"James, my boy." Ron hugged his nephew. "I know what you mean about Ginny--always trying to lock you kids down, I swear--much like Hermione does with me and these young ones here--"

"I heard that," Hermione slapped her husband across the shoulder.

"It was a joke!" Ron cried out rather peevishly. She glared at him, turned on her heel and walked around the corner to the narrow stairs leading down to the kitchens in the basement. With a sigh, Ron followed her, still hugging his daughter to his side. James trailed along behind them.

"So tell me, James, what all have you been up to since the last time we saw you--what was it, nine months ago?"

"Six--you saw me in June," James replied as they emerged into the kitchen--a large cavern-like room with giant fires set at the far end and two long tables parallel to each other in the middle. Several cupboards and countertops had been made next to the fire to modernize the room and allow for easier use along with rows of long windows at one wall through which the sunlight magically streamed in. Rose smiled, happy to be home again as she always was during the Christmas and Summer breaks from school. At the counters, her aunt and uncle worked side-by-side to make breakfast. Hearing their entry, they turned, beaming. "James! Rose! Where's the rest of the crew?" Harry called out, pulling his round glasses off his nose and wiping them on his apron to get rid of the steam across them.

"Hi, Aunt Ginny, Uncle Harry. They're in the car--should be here soon, Albus is not the most patient of drivers."

"He has his license with him, doesn't he?" Ginny led a large stack of pancakes to the table at wand-tip and let them drop down with a small thud. "Muggle police don't look kindly upon teenagers driving without their license."

"Urr... yes," Rose nodded quickly. She grabbed a pancake, turned away from her and nibbled at it quietly as James continued to tell Ron about his adventures at the latest dig-site he had visited in Timbuktu. James, a huge fan of all things ancient and historic, had studied archeology in both the Magical world and the Muggle world and worked with both communities to find interesting and exotic artifacts around the world. Ginny turned to their conversation, quite captured by the tale. Rose sighed with relief at the distraction. The truth was that Albus had never actually gotten a driving license in the Muggle world. Considering that they lived so close to King's Cross station, Hermione had suggested him to get a license so he can drive the "Hogwartians"--as Ron called them--home from the station. A fan of the cars, but not so much of having to get his permit and take his license exam, he had simply conjured himself a license over a year ago and told his parents that he had gotten it completely legally. At the reckless speed he usually drove, though, it was a wonder he hadn't had it taken away by the Muggle policemen.

"Hey, kiddo," Harry hugged Rose as he came to join her at the table. Untying his apron and pulling it off, he asked, "How's Hogwarts? Lovegood treating you okay?"

"Luna's great," Rose grinned. "One of the best headmistresses Hogwarts has ever seen. She drives Professor McGonagall mad every time she comes to visit. She's completely gotten rid of the rules about limited Hogsmeade visits--students can go there as many times as they want now, and she integrated the Study of Odd and Unexplained into the curriculum as an elective for third years and above. And the best part of it--you should see the Great Hall when any special occasion comes out. Everyone thinks it's an eyesore with mismatched colors and really odd pieces of decoration and what-not, but I think it's amazing. She's just a riot!"

"That's entirely unorthodox," Hermione sniffed as she placed a large bowl of porridge and a platter of toast on the table. "It's almost like she _wants_ to mock the traditions of Hogwarts."

"Or that she's just encouraging all of us to make our own," Rose pointed out. Hermione quirked her eyebrow at her daughter. "Come on, Mum, you have to admit her 'unorthodox' ways just encourage her students to think outside of the box and be creative throughout their studies."

"Can't argue with that," Harry grinned.

Hermione did not look convinced, but was interrupted before she could say anything else by an outbreak of noise from upstairs. They all stopped to look up at the ceiling.

"I don't understand what the big deal is, Albus--he's only two years older than me."

"Only--_only_ two years? The guy's knocked up in the head and has been since I hit him with a Bludger on the Quidditch field during our third year. What the bloody hell do you see in him anyway? His brain is the size of a pea--I don't think he qualified for a single NEWT this year--and his features resemble those of a Troll!"

"Guys--can this wait, please--?"

"Hugo, go get the trunks out of the car! As for you--"

"Stop ordering Hugo around--you're not his boss!"

"He doesn't have a problem with it--

"Err--"

"Shut up, Hugo! Of course he has a problem with it--you act like you're his mother or something, just like you're acting like my mother. I have a mother already, Albus, and she's controlling enough, okay? I don't need another one--"

Everyone turned to look at Ginny who looked incredibly offended by what she was hearing. Her ears burning red, she put her fists on her hips and glared up at the ceiling.

"I think I better go handle this--"

"I'll help."

Ron and Harry rushed to their feet and out of the kitchen.

"Stop being _stupid_, Lily, you're not going out with McLaggen and that is _final_."

"Go to hell, Albus!"

"Lily--don't walk away--Lily!"

But she was gone, stomping her way up the stairs and slamming the door to her room so loudly that they could hear it two floors down. They heard footsteps rushing after her--those of Ron's--and a much quieter voice talking to Albus--that of Harry's. Looking unfazed by what had just passed, Hugo walked into the kitchen, his hands in his pockets, whistling to himself. He stopped in his tracks, seeing the four pairs of inquiring eyes upon him. "Er... hello?"

"Lily... is going out..." Ginny began in a dangerous voice.

"With Cormac McLaggen's son?" Hermione finished for her on a hiss.

"Before you turn your weapons on me," Hugo replied still very much unfazed, "remember that I am only an innocent bystander. As I was telling Albus, what Lily does with her romantic life is none of my business. Now, I'm hungry, can I get some food please?"

Tensions were still high when the other three Weasley brothers--Bill, Percy, and George--arrived with their wives and children an hour later. Albus was stiff-jawed as he downed his breakfast and decided to go out on a walk. Harry and Ron had to physically hold their wives down from lunging at Lily when she finally came downstairs for breakfast well after Albus had left. George and his wife Angelina were the only ones mirroring Hugo's handle on the situation—in other words, they didn't give a damn. George carried around his three-year-old daughter Roxanne on his shoulders and was about to chase after seven-year-old Lucy Weasley--Percy and Audrey's daughter--when the final guest of the evening arrived with a crack at the table.

"Ted--"

"Teddy!"

"Oh, my God--Ted!"

"Hey--look who's here--!"

"What DID you do to your hair--?!"

Theodore Lupin looked slightly overwhelmed by the outburst from his family and offered them a simple, "Hello!" Ginny ran up to him immediately, hugging her godson, and poked at his bright yellow hair which was sticking up in all directions like a spiked ball on top of his head. "Ya' like?" he grinned.

"Definitely!" Ginny laughed.

"Oh, it makes your skin so sallow!" Fleur frowned disapprovingly next to her husband, Bill, who was very approving of the new look and flashed him a 'rock-out' sign.

"Just for the special announcement--"

"What special announcement?!" Several voices called out.

"Oh, but Albus is not here--" Hermione interrupted Teddy before he could respond. "Maybe we should wait?"

"Whatever, he doesn't matter," Lily shrugged rather bitterly. "Tell us, Ted!"

"I'll inform him personally," Ted assured Hermione, "If I don't tell them now, I think they will just about kill me." His eyes turned to look at Victoire who had been sitting silently next to Fleur and who was now staring at her plate of untouched pancakes, her ears bright red and dimples wedged into her chin next to her smiling lips. "I proposed to Victoire last month... and she agreed."

Rose squealed and jumped out of her chair to run around the table and hug Victoire. Her cousin laughed and she hugged her back enthusiastically. Hugo and Fred, George's son, congratulated Teddy with rough smacks to his back and he shook their hands in return. The families gathered around the happy couple, shouting out their congratulations.

"You knew all along?!" Louis and Dominique, Victoire's younger siblings, inquired of their parents, sounding rather put-out.

"Hey, they wanted to tell you themselves," Bill replied defensively and hugged his soon-to-be son-in-law.

"Everyone, everyone!" Hermione called them to attention and after several moments, the room fell silent again. "They wanted to have you all at their wedding, so it's going to be in three weeks--right before you all have to go back to school!"

"Three weeks?! I get to be one of your bridesmaids--right, sis?"

"Oh, all of you do," Victoire replied easily.

"Who you choosing for your best man, Ted?"

"Yeah, and your Maid of Honor--"

"Where is it going to be--"

"I asked Harry if we could hold it here--"

"And I obviously said yes!"

"--so it's going to be right in Grimmauld Place--"

"--three Sundays from now--"

"--and I need everyone's 'elp in getting things together--three weeks! My goodness, we 'ave no time at all!"

"Mum, relax, it will be fine--"

Rose was still smiling an hour later as everyone finally began to head up the stairs to their respective bedrooms. Ron and Harry helped jinx their trunks up to their respective rooms and Hermione, Victoire, and Fleur settled down in the library to begin the wedding plans. It had started to rain sometime during the period when they were all downstairs--the magically created sunlight in the kitchen had not warned them against the shift in weather. Rose personally enjoyed the rain very much and hoped it would continue into the night. She was about to head into her room when she realized that Albus had returned from his walk and was cursing softly in his own room one door down from hers. Frowning, she knocked on his door. "Who is it?" He called out.

"Rose."

She heard squelching footsteps and a moment later, the door was opened to reveal Albus, thoroughly drenched from head to foot, his shirt sticking to his chest, and his hair plastered to his face. She laughed as he turned away with a sour expression on his face and followed him inside. "Don't tell me you got caught in the rain?"

"Caught and thoroughly abused," he replied. "I had walked way too far by the time it started raining and thought I could wait it out, but when it didn't stop for ages--"

"Why didn't you just apparate back?" Rose asked, falling onto his bed.

"Apparate?"

She froze, feeling a fist curl around her insides. This couldn't be happening again. "Yes," she replied. "You know, go poof and appear back home instead of walking through the rain all this time--?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know what apparate is," Albus snapped. Her insides suddenly relaxed. "I was in the middle of a Muggle park though and there were a bunch of kids who decided to play soccer out in the rain so I couldn't apparate in front of them. So I started walking towards somewhere where I could apparate from, and then the rain started feeling kinda' good--you know, like a cool off--but then it started pouring and--Rose? You okay?"

"Oh, yes!" She nodded and smiled. "I'm fine. Just find it funny that you're completely drenched though."

"Ha. Leave. I gotta change. Aunt Hermione will kill me if she knows about this."

Rose laughed and began to walk out of the room. She paused at the doorway and turned around. "By the way, Albus--Teddy and Victoire are getting married."

"You're kidding!" Albus's mood changed within a split-second right before her eyes.

"Three weeks from Sunday--right before we leave for Hogwarts."

"And I missed the announcement. Bloody McLaggen--I swear I'm going to kill that kid when I see him next--"

"Whatever--" Rose laughed, closing the door behind her. She walked into her own room and started unpacking her trunk. She began to unpack her books first, and froze when she pulled out her Care of Magical Creatures textbook. When Albus and she had been talking about Apparition, she had been worried for a moment that he might have forgotten what it was. It was happening so frequently now--little things that had always been taken for granted were slowly disappearing from people's memories. First the book... then the pixies. Charms, potions… She had been trying to ignore the signs but the sense of urgency grew stronger and stronger inside her, gnawing at her inside. She had to do something as she seemed to be the only one realizing this was happening. But what could she do? Where did she even start? She took a deep breath and opened the Care of Magical Creatures book again to page 289. "Hey, I'm heading downstairs to wish--Rose, what's wrong?"

She looked up, snapping the book shut. She put it down on the table and shook her head. "Nothing. Just unpacking, thinking about... school and stuff."

Albus looked unconvinced. He walked into the room and grabbed the textbook, looking at it curiously. "Don't lie--you suck at it."

"Actually, I don't," Rose sighed. "You can just sniff it out like a bloody hound."

He grinned. "So, you admit something's wrong. Tell."

Should she tell him? Albus was the one person she trusted most in her life--even more than herself. If she could just ask for one person in the world to listen to her admit _anything_ and still not laugh, it would be him. But the disappearance of magic... it sounded ridiculous to her own ears.

"Come on, Rose, you know you can tell me." Albus sounded legitimately worried. She had tried to ignore it and it hadn't worked... perhaps it was time to see what someone else thought about it.

"Magic is disappearing."

She didn't look at him for the longest time--stared instead at her own fingers which were viciously picking at each other in front of her. When he didn't say anything, she looked up and saw that he was expecting more. She shrugged. "That's it."

"That's it?" He repeated. "What do you _mean_ magic is disappearing? Like... I don't even know--what _does_ that mean?"

"It started with the Pixies--actually, it might have begun before that. Remember the night before my birthday, I was in the library searching for something? Well I had actually fallen asleep in the library and when I woke up, I couldn't remember what I had been looking for for the longest time and then, I looked at this book that was in front of me and there were two lines completely missing in a list of household charms and I would have thought it was nothing--just a page break or something--when the line kinda... well, it disappeared. Like the page decided to edit out the blankness and just filled it up. And then, I was talking to Jamie and Carla about some magical creature or whatever and Jamie suddenly did not know what a Pixie was! I mean, she knew but she didn't think they existed and she didn't remember that we had studied them in our second year and then I searched my textbook and for a good minute, there were blank pages in there where there should have been a chapter about Pixies--right between Phoenixes a-and--but they weren't there and just like that missing line in the library book, my textbook just swallowed up the blank pages right in front of my eyes and there is no proof of Pixies existing as magical creatures anywhere in the library and I even asked Professor Scamander and he just gave me this weird look as though I had lost my mind--and I think I am losing my mind!"

Albus could only stare at her at the end of the rapid speech. Finally, he blew out a sharp breath of air. "Wow... that much, huh?"

"I don't think I'm going insane," Rose corrected herself stubbornly. She'd had a lot of time to think this true and she kept wavering on that one point—whether she was going insane or not. "I know these things are happening right before my eyes and I know what you'll say--you'll point out that I have not been getting enough sleep and I might be imagining things."

"Rose," Albus stopped her. "I don't believe that Pixies exist either."

She sighed in exasperation, feeling as though her last chance had just been snatched away from her. She turned around and fell onto her bed. "But they _do_!" She mumbled into her pillow.

"I know that's what you think... and if you say that's because I have _forgotten_ about Pixies..."

"Don't tell me I'm going crazy."

"You're not. I-I don't know what's going on, but I hardly doubt you're going crazy--you're one of the smartest people I know," Albus quickly corrected her.

She turned around to frown at her. "What are you saying--you believe me?"

Albus seemed to contemplate the question. "I'm not quite sure yet," he admitted. Fair enough... it was better than laughing in her face."How come you're the only one who's noticed?"

"I don't know." She rolled over and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "I swear we studied Pixies in our second year--I remember them clearly. Little blue creature with wings and beady black eyes and everything and if you think that I'm making up their picture in my mind because of a description I read somewhere, then that's not true either. All the books I have read that talk about pixies as--quote-on-quote--fantastical creatures don't have a single consistent description of them. In fact, none of them mention Pixies as having blue bodies which is their key feature. Trust me, I've done my research--Pixies... they don't exist in our world anymore. No one remembers them."

"Except for you."

She nodded.

Albus chewed on the inside of his lip for a long time before he said, "Have you told anyone else?"

She shook her head. "They'd all think I was crazy. Especially if I told Mum or Aunt Ginny--they'd think I'm being influenced by hair-brained Luna Lovegood--they think she's weird or something."

"Granted that she kind of is."

She shrugged grudgingly. "I guess a bit."

Albus smiled at her. "Oh, come on, Coz." He sat down beside her and put his arm around her. "Look, we have lots on our plate already for the wedding. Wait it out--see if it happens again and then we'll both try to figure out what to do, yes?"

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then smiled back. "Yes. You're right. I'll just have to wait it out, I guess."


	6. Chapter 6

The Lupin-Weasley wedding was going to be the stuff of dreams. Set in the ginormous dining hall of 12 Grimmauld Place--a room that was at least as large as the Great Hall of Hogwarts and twice as grand due to the great pride the Black family had taken in decorating their family home--it was to cater to at least a hundred families and be the largest event of the year without doubt. Ginny had remarked to Hermione more than once that it was a good thing they had found the hidden sections of the hall several years back or it would never have been large enough to cater everyone.

Victoire and Teddy had secretly both admitted to the kids that they had hoped for a much... _much_ smaller wedding, preferably with only immediate family and close friends present, but Fleur insisted that it was a matter of prestige among her French peers. Deciding that there was no way they would let Fleur outshine them in any prospect of this wedding, Ginny decided to invite all the important figures acquainted with _their_ side of the family as well, including several famous Quidditch players--she had once herself been a player for the Holyhead Harpies before retiring to take care of her children at home and continued on as a reporter for Quidditch with the Daily Prophet--journalists, influential members at the Ministry of Magic and--

"The Malfoys?" Rose gasped as she read the guest list. "Why did you invite the Malfoys?"

"As much as I hate to say it, Ted is related to them through Tonks."

Rose opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to believe what she was hearing. Such a happy occasion marred by the _Malfoys'_ presence?! "But even Aunt Tonks used to hate them--we all do!"

"Honey, we do not hate the Malfoys," Hermione corrected her sharply as she and Victoire looked through a book of cake-ideas for the reception party. "In fact, Mrs. Malfoy and I work together on a daily basis at the Ministry."

"Oh yes, you are so close, in fact, that you're even on first-name basis with her, aren't you?"

Hermione looked up at her with a sigh, removing her spectacles from the bridge of her nose. "I do not understand why you hate the Malfoys so much! It's all your dad's fault, isn't it? I swear I--well, it doesn't matter! The Malfoys have been invited whether you like it or not. Now stop pouting and help your aunt with the seating arrangement. Now, Tory, my dear, what do you think of this one--three layers topped with fairy dust and a magical fountain?"

Rose wanted to keep arguing, but she knew when a battle was pointless to fight and she would rather not waste time on pointless battles. So she took a deep breath to calm the boiling hatred in her gut and looked down at the seating chart. With a quill, she assigned the Malfoys to the table farthest at the back of the hall for the ceremony. She also took great pleasure in the fact that Aunt Fleur was currently arguing with her mother--"Three layers are nearly not enough! _My_ Victoire needs at least a seven-layered cake--zere are going to be so many people zere after all! And a fountain? What a silly notion--I remember Bill and I 'ad phoenixes fly off of our wedding cake--zat was so beautiful! It is all right, 'emione, we don't expect you to 'ave good taste in cakes. Yours was tres droll, after all."

She did feel intensely bad for Victoire though who was stuck between the two women and looked ready to burst out crying with the daggers they were glaring at each other. She looked at Rose with an increasing sense of desperation, practically crying out for a rescue. Unable to stand that look she was receiving, she suddenly blurted out, "Ted was looking for you! I almost forgot to say."

"Oh, 'e can wait. Zis is important."

"No, no," Rose stumbled around for a better excuse. Wasn't a man wishing to see his fiancé reason enough to let the poor girl go? "He--err--wants to talk to her about something. Something very, very important. I think it had something to do with the ring?"

"Oh! 'E must've finally found the perfect one--go, darling, go! Oh, and make sure it is grand enough--not some silly family 'eirloom or anything."

"What is wrong with family heirlooms, Fleur?" Ginny asked her. "If I remember correctly, you wore my Great-Aunt Muriel's tiara for your wedding."

"Yes, and it was a ghastly thing, I tell you!" Fleur touched her perfectly soft silver hair and shuddered daintily. Both Hermione and Ginny looked just about ready to kill her.

"Here, I'll take you to him," Rose jumped out of her chair and led Victoire away. As soon as they were out of the doors, Victoire pulled her into a tight hug. "You... are a life-savior!" She said dropping a kiss on her cheek. "Be my maid of honor? Oh, and don't tell anyone yet--Niqi will have a fit if she realizes I picked you over my own sister as my maid of honor."

Rose laughed. "Thought you'd never ask. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone--your secret's safe with me. Now, let's go and find Ted so Mum doesn't see us wandering around and realize we were lying."

"Someone call my name?"

"Ted! You leave me alone with my mother one more time and the engagement is off, I swear--!" Victoire wailed out as Ted turned the corner. He looked pleasantly surprised as she headed for his neck with outstretched hands. He caught them in his and laughed, pulling her into his embrace. "They're awful, I swear! This wedding is going to be a disastrous battle between Mum and Aunt Hermione and Ginny over who gets to bring more guests, who finds the best cake, and who bloody gets to say 'I do'."

Ted frowned. "I hope the last one will get to be you at least."

"I don't know," Victoire shrugged sarcastically. "Don't be surprised if you see them fighting their way down the aisle and find me tied up and stuffed into the attic upstairs."

"Oh, that won't be good, Ted," Rose winced. "There are dead bats and droppings and a ghoul that will drive Tory crazy within the hour!"

"We could elope?"

"And be swiftly disowned from both your families, yes," Rose responded.

"How about we confront them and tell them that all we want a simple wedding with only family and friends?"

"Ha, like that will help, the invitations have been sent out already."

Victoire and Ted both turned to her with rather annoyed looks. "Why did I ask you to be my maid of honor again?" Victoire asked her.

Rose grinned. "I'm just trying to keep things in perspective. Isn't that what the maid of honor supposed to do?"

"Come here--" Ted grabbed her around the neck as though he was going to choke her and tousled her hair.

"Ted! Watch out--Fleur will kill you if you mess up the maid of honor's hair merely weeks before the wedding!"

"I'm the groom--"

"Like she'd care!" Rose replied snidely. Ted joined in with Victoire's laughter and let Rose go.

"Come on, Tory, let's get you out of here for a while--let the _maid of honor_ deal with the battle of the Matron Witches."

(0)

When the day finally arrived two weeks later nestled into the tender snow-falls of mid-January, it was to see both the bride and the groom safe and unharmed--as well as out of the ghoul-haunted attic--and all three Matron Witches calm and composed. Well... as calm and composed as they could be as they battled their own hectic minds instead of each other. The children, as well as George, Angelina, Harry, Ron, and Bill, had decided that it was far too perilous to attempt civil interaction with any of them. "Bloody Percy," Ron muttered after getting a sound lecture for an hour from his wife about the importance of a properly folded table-napkin. "Smart bugger left long before the wives got crazy--always knew exactly when to escape."

They had all decided to resort to running as many errands out of the house as possible or playing Quidditch in the back-yard. When the day came, though, none of them were spared from various chores and duties preparing the house for the guests.

The first of the guests had started arriving the previous night--Andromeda Tonks, Ted's maternal grandmother, Fleur's parents, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Charlie Weasley, Gabriella Delacour-Marks and her oldest son, Guy. The next morning, Percy and Audrey came back again--met with more grumbling from Ron--and a slew of more family members. As per Angelina's suggestion, Rose, Dominique, and Lily had shut themselves in with Victoire to avoid getting caught in the cross-fire between the Matron Witches. Very talented with the wand, Niqi styled Victoire's hair for her, pulling the thick waterfall of silver-blonde into an elegant collection of curls on top of her head with soft whisps framing the sides of her face.

"Tory, you look absolutely gorgeous," Rose exclaimed as she helped place the final pins into place in her hair. "Oh, and Mum wanted you to wear these in your hair--something borrowed." Ginny Weasley had given her the small diamond-studded hair pins that she herself had worn at her wedding.

"Rose, she's probably going to fall flat on her face walking down the aisle--are you sure you want those pins sticking into her head when that happens?"

"Niqi!" Rose and Lily both turned to the girl with sharp remarks. Tory looked like she was going to puke any moment. "Your _sister_ is not going to fall anytime this evening and even if she does, Ted will be there to catch her."

Tory laughed softly but Rose could easily tell how much more her stomach had knotted over the past minute compared to before.

Meanwhile, mayhem was breaking out downstairs.

"Butterflies--not fireflies, _butterflies_! The room is going to be too brightly lit for fireflies to be floating around!" Hermione looked just about ready to slaughter the next helper from the DeLilah's Wedding Inc. who would have the misfortune to pass by her. Either that, or breaking the large jar full of fireflies that had just arrived at the doorstep.

"Hermione, relax--we can dim the lighting," Ginny suggested.

"But it will throw off all the color-coordination!" Molly Weasley gasped. Her thick white hair was pulled back tightly into a don't-mess-with-me bun and she looked like she wanted to join Hermione in cold-blood murder.

"I agree!" Fleur cried out. "Ze pale peach in sunligt is beautiful--put it in darkness and it turns the color of vomit!"

Rose winced as she came down the stairs. She had come down to help her mother and aunts with anything that needed to be done, but it seemed as though now was not the best time to interrupt. Especially adding her grandmother's presence into the Terrible Trinity had just about driven everyone over the edge by bed-time last night. She turned on her heel and walked back upstairs, wondering where the hell to go now. She did not want to be downstairs with her mother, but Victoire had asked for a moment to herself. The poor girl was so nervous that she had decided to take a nap--with a protective charm over her hair and face so as not to mess up the make-up--to calm her nerves. Rose doubted she was actually able to sleep, but silence and peace was something she undoubtedly needed at the moment. They were things that everyone needed.

She paused on the first landing and heard the boys laughing loudly down the corridoor. At least _they_ were enjoying themselves. She just hoped James and Albus were not poking as much fun at Ted as Niqi had been one more flight up with Tory. She walked up to the third floor, heard Mr. and Mrs. Delacour arguing heavily in French and kept walking.

She rarely came to the fourth floor of Grimmauld Place--it was just too far up and she had never thought to visit here as only Harry and Ginny roomed here in Harry's godfather's old room to her left. The corridor was just as well-lit as all the other floors, but much quieter as it was so far from the explosion of voices and noises downstairs. She sighed, feeling relieved at the opportunity to escape it, and walked down the corridor. It was lined with portrait after portrait of very old-looking wizards and witches, most of who were sleeping. She recognized one or two here and there--Phineas Black who had once owned this house, a couple of friends of her parents' who had died during the Second Wizarding War, and--

"Ah, Ms. Weasley."

Rose stopped in awe as Professor Dumbledore spoke to her out of his portrait, laying down a piece of parchment he had been reading. He replaced his half-moon glasses on his nose and smiled down at her with a twinkle in his eyes. She had only seen him a handful of times before--on Chocolate Frog Cards, in a portrait in Headmistress Lovegood's room, and in several books she had studied over her years at Hogwarts. This was the first time she was able to hear his voice. She rather liked it--like an old grandfather's.

"Professor Dumbledore."

"Oh? I'm glad you remember me. I haven't seen you here in over twelve years."

She had seen his portrait before? She had no memory of it. He almost seemed to read her mind and laughed. "Yes, your father brought you to meet me when you were only five. I'm sure you do not remember--it was quite some time ago."

She smiled. "I-I don't often come up to this floor," she admitted.

"Oh, no need for excuses now. I understand that youngsters these days have much more to do than visit old dead men in portraits--as they have in all days, actually."

"Well, I'm quite jealous of your life, truth be told. Wish I could just relax, read a book, and go to sleep instead of the havoc downstairs."

"Havoc? And what exactly is going on downstairs? I'm afraid I have found great solitude in this sturdy frame here and don't leave it as often as I doubtless should."

"Oh," she laughed. "My cousin Victoire Weasley is getting married to Ted Lupin. The wedding is today at five."

"That's correct. Harry told me about that only a few days ago, but what can I do? I'm an old man with thin mental powers."

"I'm glad I could remind you then."

He simply smiled at her. She rocked back and forth on her feet, her gaze traveling to the other frames whose residents seemed undisturbed by her presence. She should ask him. By everything that her parents had told her, if there was one person who could give her an answer, it would be Professor Dumbledore. Her father spoke of him as though he was God and her mother did no less. So... she should ask him. But she felt so odd pouring her doubts out to a portrait--especially a portrait of someone whom she knew so little.

"Is something wrong, Ms. Weasley?"

Great. Now people could read her from within portraits as well. "W-Well, not really," she replied. "I just... I had a question, I guess."

"And you believe I have the answer."

"Do you?"

"I will be able to answer that question when I hear what you have to say."

She licked her lips, still feeling incredibly stupid. People in portraits could walk and talk, but she didn't actually know if they held the same characteristics as the person did when they were living. There was a possibility that this portrait-Dumbledore didn't even know what had happened after his death. How would he be able to answer her questions?

It was really quite unnerving that he was remaining silent for so long. Did the man have no end to his patience?

"Well," she sighed, "I-I've just been noticing that--I know this sounds odd--but that magic has been disappearing." And from there, she spilled out the entire story. By the end of it, she could not remember whether she had even stopped to take a breath. When she looked up, it was to see Dumbledore staring off into the space over her shoulder, looking rather pensive. She breathed a sigh of relief--the second person she had told her problem to who had not laughed in her face. Perhaps the notion was not as unbelievable as she had thought.

"Is it time already--?"

"I'm sorry, Professor?" What was it time for? And why was he so surprised that it was 'time already'?

He snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to her, his gaze softening again. "An ancient man, off his rocker, simply muttering to himself, Ms. Weasley. Please do not mind me. Now, what you describe does not sound unbelievable at all, but I'm afraid I cannot tell you much about the subject as I know very little myself. Instead, I will suggest a book to you--you read often, don't you, Ms. Weasley? I can see it in those marvelous blue eyes of yours--just as smart as your mother, aren't you? So I will tell you to find a book called Tales of The Aruichi. I believe you shall find _some_ answers in there at least. The rest are for _you_ to decipher in your life."

She frowned, confused by what he could have meant, but before she could respond, she heard her mother's magnified voice ring throughout the corridors, calling her name. She jumped a foot into the air as the portraits awoke with similar starts before her.

"What the bloody hell--oh, Rose!"

She grinned at the portrait place two to the right of Dumbledore's. "Hello, Uncle Fred."

"Is that your mother?" He asked referring to the voice. "You tell her to go stuff it and let the poor dead men sleep in peace at least until the ceremony."

She laughed. "I'll be sure to say those words to her verbatim."

He winked.

"Rose, haven't seen you in forever, my girl."

"Hello, Sirius. Attending the wedding tonight?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Now I suggest you hurry downstairs before your mother skins you alive."

"Yes, sir," she grinned. She looked back to Dumbledore once again, smiled, and was about to turn away when he called her name again.

"Ms. Weasley."

"Yes, sir?"

"You have grown to be quite a remarkable young lady. Do not be afraid to search for your place in this world because you will surely find it."

She simply nodded, not knowing how else to respond, and hurried down the stairs again.


	7. Chapter 7

The ceremony was more marvelous than any of them had expected. Somehow through her excellent connections, Hermione had managed to get her hands on a bucket of butterflies instead of the delivered fireflies and the colorful collection now floated through the room, clinging like jewels to the stems of the hundreds of lanterns hanging far over the heads of the guests. Instead of casting a candlelight-glow, however, the lanterns emitted fluorescence that was very reminiscent of sunlight through a canopy of leaves. From the ceiling, autumn leaves of all colors slowly fluttered towards the ground and disappeared as they got closer and closer to the guests. The long windows lining the walls on both sides of the hall were draped with soft peach and cream curtains through which rays of sunlight streamed in perfect patterns of gold. The soft voices of a veela choir could be heard throughout the room with no source and no end, putting the guests in a semi-mesmerized trance as they walked through the grand wooden doors to take their seats in the rows of chairs placed on either side of the main aisle. Peach and cream ribbons had also been hung from chair to chair to compliment the curtains.

The bridesmaids--Dominique, Rose, Lily and Mol--entered first in gold-and-cream dresses followed by the ring-bearer, Louis, and the flower-girl, Roxanne, who threw white rose-petals with her chubby little hands. The guests collectively 'awwed' as she passed, her red head bowed down and her eyes entirely focused on doing her job correctly. Finally, the bride arrived as the sunlight intensified, throwing the room into the illusion of being out in an autumn forest. Tory looked exquisite wearing her mother's wedding dress--a simple silhouette of pure white that looked radiant against her pale skin, her hair glittering silver and gold, and accompanied by her father who looked rather proud and handsome despite the faint scars covering his face. Rose chanced a glance at Ted and saw him staring at Tory with all the happiness in the world trapped inside his eyes. She grinned as she turned back to Tory who was beaming with pleasure.

"Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today..."

(0)

Rose felt dizzy by the first half hour of the reception. The disadvantage of having so many male cousins was not being able to sit still for more than a minute while music was playing. She laughed as James twirled her around and tugged her back into an embrace to only swing her around again and tip her backwards. "James, I swear I'm going to hurl if you don't let me stop--" She shouted at him breathlessly, smiling so widely that she felt her cheeks hurt all the while.

"Just don't get any of it on my coat--it's not even mine."

"Whose is it?" she asked as he twirled her yet again.

"I have my sources--you need not know!"

She laughed again.

"James, mind eef I cut in?"

They turned to see Guy Delacour-Marks bow deeply. Rose almost groaned out loud and James shot her a helpless look. "Go ahead."

Guy was the epitome of propriety, brought up in the rich society of France. He had taken dance lessons as well as horseback-riding lessons and painting lessons since he was five and much enjoyed long-walks in the moonlight given the right company. Would Rose mind to take a walk with him tonight? Oh, she was not feeling well? That is all right, perhaps later when she was through being thoroughly harassed by all the gentlemen in the room who yearned her attention--which was quite a few, believe him. Did she know that she looked quite exquisite today? The way she wore her hair--pulled back into a simply twisted-bun and studded with small diamonds--it was simply too beautiful for words, although he imagined it might have been even more beautiful down and free to ride the wind as it pleased. She also had what he liked to call a 'forever-young porcelain face'. Even the freckles did not mar her complexion as they easily would ruin anyone else's beauty. As for her intoxicating blue eyes--they reminded him of a poem--

"Beg your pardon, Guy."

Yet another cut-in, but this one was much more favored over Guy who did not quite seem to capture the boundary between complimenting and stomach-turning spouting of praises. "Mum wanted a word with you," Albus told Rose with a remarkably straight face.

"Oh, excellent--do allow me to escort you to ze lovely Mizzuz Weazley, Mizz Rose?" Guy offered her his arm.

"No need," Albus stepped forward quickly and cheerfully. He grabbed Rose's elbow. "I got it!"

Without waiting for a response, he led her away, weaving through the crowd of bouncing and twirling guests. "Albus, thank you so much!" Rose shouted to him. She was met with a typical Potter grin and a wink.

"Anything for you, 'coz. Besides, I don't really trust that kid. Kept asking Lily if she would like to go outside with him even after she turned him down fifty times. James swears that if he sees him around one of you girls one more time, he'll take him out himself and hex him into an oozing slug."

He led her to the drinks table and handed her a glass of punch. She downed it, then pulled her feet out of the heels she had been wearing with a wince. She could feel her blisters getting blisters having been subjected to those monstrosities. "Did you see who's here?" Albus said close to her ear. She shook her head. "McLaggen and his family."

He pointed young Alex out as he danced rather awkwardly with Lily. Rose decided not to say anything as Albus looked just about ready to punch the kid, and instead looked through the rest of the crowd. Niqi was dancing with a young French man with a pointed chin dotted with a slight goatee. She assumed it was her boyfriend of two years, Jean Paul, who was at least five years older than her. Her father had not been very happy with her selection, but Fleur insisted that it was all right as he was French and surely that is an honorable enough title to trust the boy. Louis and Molly were dancing with little Roxanne, taking turns twirling her around and doing the 'twist' with her. Harry and Ginny, and Bill and Fleur were also dancing towards the front of the hall with Teddy and Tory and far to their right was--

The object of her observation turned to look at her at that precise moment and for some odd reason, she held his gaze, raising her chin ever so little. He looked arrogant as ever, wearing a black turtleneck beneath a black coat. His pale blonde hair was somewhat swept to one side, but had been shaken out of order throughout the evening and looked rather wind-swept. She thought she had seen a dimple in his cheek as he laughed with his dance partner, Gwen Yardley, but it disappeared as he looked at her. His jaw gritted into a sculpted line and he turned away from her.

"Yeah, Scorpius is here too," Albus sighed, noticing who she had been looking at. "Mum invited him because--"

"He and Ted are related, yes, I know," Rose cut him off.

"No need to bite my head off about it."

"What?" Rose turned to Albus, feeling rather ashamed. "Oh, I didn't really mean to, it's just... ugh, he annoys me so much."

"Obviously so," Albus replied with a smile. "Don't worry about it. How're your feet feeling? Another dance?"

"Actually, I think they've had enough dancing for the evening--if you drag me out there one more time, I might just have to kill you with these heels I'm wearing and trust me--you don't want to be stabbed by one of these things, they're fatal."

"I'll take your word for it and just be glad that I'm not a girl."

"Albus, don't look now, but there's a girl eyeing you over there--I said don't look!"

Albus grinned at the young blonde and she smiled back. "I guess I've been claimed for the next dance." With that, he walked off back into the dance field. She rolled her eyes and smiled after him. Then, deciding that she needed something cool for her feet, she grabbed her heels in her hand and walked towards the exit into the gardens.

The Matron Witches had not left anything untouched. The fireflies that had been received earlier that morning had been multiplied and set into the gardens--enough for all the trees lining the edges of the gardens to be filled with them. The snow had been cleared from the balcony at the entrance to the gardens, as well as a narrow path that led into the canopy of trees beyond. Small balls of silver were studded throughout the ground, gleaming eerily through the snow, and the sky had been magically enchanted to show a perfect night of sparkling stars decorated with a large crescent-moon. She took a deep breath of the cool air, dropped her shoes on the ground and stepped down from the balcony. Hiking up her skirts slightly, she placed a single foot into the snow. The cold hit her skin, shocking her senses and making her gasp, but she did not mind. She found the sensations to be exhilarating. Carefully, she let her foot sink into the snow, then placed the other one in. Smiling, she stepped through the snow towards the nearest ball of silver. When she reached it, she leaned down and dug her hands through the snow, curious as to what was causing the glow. Her hand grazed something solid but it disappeared beneath her fingers, setting free a stream of silver light that quickly escaped into the night air and dissipated. She grinned.

She turned around, seeking out the next silver orb when her eye caught movement on the balcony. She looked up and stopped. Scorpius had just arrived on the balcony. He also froze, spotting her and almost made to turn around, but then didn't. "Aren't you cold?"

She wanted to say no, but there was only so much that her feet could handle. So, without replying, she rushed out of the snow and into the path again, shaking off the snow from her feet and the edge of her gown.

"After so many years in England, I thought you would know that snow is cold."

"Yes, thank you, no need to point it out to me," she snapped back. He didn't say anything and simply watched her rub her feet against each other to get the last of the snow off of them. His face was cast into shadows by the distant fireflies and the glow of moonlight over their heads. She did not like not being able to see what he was thinking. Then again, she was never able to know what he was thinking in plain daylight. That mask he wore... which he was so famous for. The only thing it let slip by was his arrogance--a constant reminder as to how alike he and his father were. She had seen him interact with other classmates--even Albus to a certain extent--with openness and unguarded cheer and had wondered how correct she was reading his character. And then he would turn to look at her and it was the same cold mask of arrogance and a bit of disgust. She did not care. She had no patience for anyone who insulted her family, especially with no rhyme or reason. Even now, his stillness in the night was just a reminder of the first time they had met on a similar evening in front of Hogwarts.

She longed to just hurry back into the party and ignore his presence. She played out the situation in her mind--_just nod or say 'bye' or something and walk right past him. It's not a big deal,_ she told herself. He would look down his nose at her again and highly disapprove of her behavior but, hey, it was _Scorpius Malfoy_! Who cares!

Bitterly, she admitted that she cared. He had not spoken a single offensive word to her this evening, even though the snow comment had been marked with sarcasm and not a bit of doubt for the sanity of her mind. If he wasn't being out-right rude, then she had no right to be so herself. She was also one of the hosts of the event, and as such, she had to follow certain etiquette towards her guests. Then there were her parents... she knew she should try to listen to her Mum and improve her relationship with Scorpius, but that was beyond question. There was no looking back now, not when he stood there so silently and not when she could practically feel the animosity coming off of him in waves towards her. So, she'd settle to being un-rude and deal with her own animosity.

"You are not enjoying the reception?"

"It's good," he replied simply.

"Oh." She cleared her throat. "Good."

There was a long, awkward pause during which she contemplated leaving again.

"Would you like your shoes?" He began to lean down to grab the shoes she had discarded upon the balcony.

She shook her head and he straightened again. After some silence, she explained herself, "Heels are not the most pleasant things to wear--especially if they're new."

"I couldn't begin to imagine."

She nodded. He was rather terrible at making conversation, she realized. But she was not helping the matter all that much… She did not care to help the matter and she doubted if he did either. Well, what a failure of an attempt _this_ had been. "You look like you need a break from the party. I'll go back inside."

"Okay," he replied curtly. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."


	8. Chapter 8

SCORPIUS:

He wished he hadn't spoken to her. When he saw her in the garden, he should have turned on his heel and walked back inside. She already thought he was an insensitive jerk anyways. Why would it matter if he continued to play the role?

She annoyed him to no end. Always so calm and unbreakable, so perfectly in control of every movement and every emotion, and so sure of herself. What annoyed him the most was how sure she was of her opinion of him. She had colored him the typical Slytherin villain since the first day he met her. He admitted he had not left her with the brightest impression of all--he had insulted her and her family members under the pressure to live up to everyone's expectations for him. Those wretched expectations from his friends--Parkinson and Greengrass, his cousin from his Mum's side—who had been with him at that time. At the young age of eleven, he had foolishly perceived the situation as an opportunity to prove himself to the world.

What had he been trying to prove though? That he was as much of a man as his father had been? He had even had two groupies flanking him on either side, just like his father had during his stay at Hogwarts--Uncles Crabbe and Goyle, the latter of whom had committed suicide five years ago and whose death was never discussed among the Malfoys. Why he had killed himself? Scorpius wondered. Finance was not an issue in his life. He had an excellent family--three children, all of whom currently attended Durmstrang. A wife who had been all too young, slender, and beautiful for him. An influential role in the workings of Gringotts, the Wizarding bank despite the sore emptiness of his skull. So what could possibly have been so bad in his life that he had chosen to end it?

Was it possible that the pressure, the rumors, and the gossip had finally gotten to good old Uncle Goyle? Scorpius sneered sadistically into the night. Hearing the same thing over and over again for decades now--_he was in league with the Dark Lord, I heard, what a wretched thing to do; he probably killed so many people; I cannot believe such cruelty in life could ever be awarded by God--it was bound to drive any man insane._ Wands rarely turned on their owners, but when the will was so strong, the wand had no power against it. He had performed the Killing Curse on himself and because of this, he still received little peace and sympathy from the Wizarding world even in his death. _He apparently killed himself with the Killing Curse, did you know? I _knew_ he had been in league with the Death Eaters--how else would he know how to perform that curse? I heard it takes an intense amount of hatred and desire to kill--what a black soul he must have had to be able to perform that curse._

Scorpius had not much liked the man himself when he had been alive, he admitted. He called him "Uncle Goyle" out of compulsion as that was what his parents wished. His unorthodox ways about daily life had never sat well with Scorpius, though. He saw much of his parents' influence on him. He frequently mistreated his servant-Elves... the few of whom Mrs. Hermione Granger-Weasley had not been able to liberate completely with her SPEW revolution at the Ministry. He was a rude man in general, quick to rise to temper and to punish the subjects of his annoyance with as much severity as the law allowed him to. He was not among the favorite of bosses at the Wizarding bank either.

But Scorpius still felt an odd sort of pity for him. He had been so influenced by his parents and his friends and his environment throughout childhood--had so blindly followed what he believed was 'right', however awful his judgment had been--and was still paying for his stupidity even in his death. Scorpius shuddered to think of the possibility of leading a life like that. Forever loathed, forever scorned upon and forever held responsible for the acts of his parents and his peers. He lived in the constant fear of making one wrong move and being condemned forever, of living a nightmare that would make him writhe in bed as well as in his grave. How long had he fought to clear the slate? To bring his character to at least a 'neutral' in peoples' minds if not to 'positive'? How long had he watched his every step, questioned his every move, and judged his own words?

When he looked into her eyes, none of it mattered. She loathed him despite the efforts and her reaction was the single most crippling reminder of what could happen if he let himself slip just a fraction of an inch. There was no going back. There would be no going back with her. She would never look at him as anything more than a parasite crawling through the Good blood of the Wizarding world. She would never see him as more than the spitting image of his father--in appearance and in character. He didn't know why, but that clear piece of knowledge made his insides writhe with regret.

"You look sick."

He did not respond to his father's emotionless comment as they arrived hours later in their vast dining hall. Before them stood Ursil, their female house-elf who had a fearful look in her eyes as she waited for their order. His parents did not bother to acknowledge her presence.

"Oh, what is wrong, son?"

Scorpius sighed with annoyance as his mother laid her hand on his cheek, searching his face for the reason for his agitation. "Did the food from the wedding not sit well? I thought there was something fishy about it--didn't even taste good! They probably prepared it themselves--do they have any house-elves in that wretched home of theirs, Draco? I heard they actually set that pathetic Kreature free several years ago—why ever would they do that?"

Draco did not bother to answer his wife's questions as he strode into the adjoining hallways, loosening the knot of his tie. "Muggle attire," he spat as he threw aside his coat. "Since when have we Wizards started wearing this bloody uncomfortable garb?"

"Don't pout, dear, it is very much in-fashion these days," Astoria simpered. She turned to Ursil who had remained perfectly silent and motionless other than to get out of their way as they walked out of the Dining Hall. She snapped her fingers impatiently and pointed to the coat Draco had shrugged out of. Quickly, the little elf with her skinny limbs and terrified eyes hurried forward to grab the coat and run it out of her masters' sight to be washed, ironed, and neatly put back into Draco's closet by the morning.

"Must be the influence of those filthy Mud-bloods--"

"I'm going upstairs," Scorpius sighed, quickly rushing across the hallways towards the staircase. He had heard this muttered discontent about Pure-bloods versus Half-bloods so many times in his life that he had the entire thing memorized and could probably repeat it in his sleep. It was almost as though his father repeated it at every opportunity he got to ensure that his one and only son would also begin to think like him about the situation. Actually, Scorpius knew perfectly well that was exactly the reason that his father repeated the rant so many times. Now, there was one man he did not mind disappointing in his life.

"Feel better, sweetie, I'll have the elf bring you some warm milk with a bit of brandy in it."

"Naw, that's fine," Scorpius yelled down the stairs, almost up to his bedroom on the fourth floor within seconds. He walked into his room, able to relax a little but not completely—never completely. He pulled off his coat and tie and threw them onto the chair next to his desk. By the time he had turned around, Ursil was there, gathering them together in her small arms. He sighed, putting his hands in his pocket. "Urs."

She didn't look at him--years of experience with the Malfoys had taught her that meeting the eyes of the masters could be sentenced by severe pain. "Yes, master Scorpius?"

"Do you think you could make me a grilled cheese, please?"

He had asked her for two reasons--the first being that he actually hadn't eaten anything all night long. Being in such close proximity to so many witches and wizards who were scrutinizing him every second had not allowed him to work up much of an appetite at the wedding. Now that he was home, though, he could feel the hunger pains kicking in. Also, he knew how much Ursil enjoyed cooking. She didn't think anyone knew, but over ten years ago, Scorpius had heard her humming as she prepared his birthday meal. It was the only time he had heard her voice when she was not responding to her masters. She had a terrible singing voice.

"Yes, Master."

"Oh, make it with your mum's herbs," he added with a slightly more authoritative voice. He wanted to set the elf at ease, but by no means did he want his father to hear of his 'kindness' towards the elves. Wouldn't that be an excellent lecture to listen to?

"Yes, Master." Ursil replied immediately. He still detected her excitement at the opportunity to cook again--usually the older elves took care of that--and hurried out of the room. He sighed and turned around, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and tugging it up around his elbows. His bed looked warm and comfortable, but not quite as appealing as one would expect it to be. He didn't sleep well when he was at home. He turned to his desk instead and absentmindedly sifted through the pieces of parchment lying there. Essays, notes from classes--all the boring stuff. He sighed, still wondering what the hell he would do for several more sleepless hours to come, when his eyes fell on a piece of parchment lying on the ground. He frowned, stooping to pick it up.

Scribbled across the page in rough scratches, looking so messy they could have been the doodles of a distracted toddler, was a single word: Pixies.

"Pixies?" He whispered, letting his fingers trail across the word. What had caused him to write this—and _when_?

He heard the pop behind him but did not turn around right away. Slowly, he put the parchment back on his desk and covered it up. Then, he took a deep breath and turned to face his father. "Did you need something?"

"Does a father need a reason to come see his son?" Draco asked with a sugary voice.

Scorpius smiled icily. "No, but you usually have one," he shrugged.

Draco opened his arms before him as though showing him that he had none. "Just wanted to make sure you were doing all right. You were awfully quiet throughout most of the wedding… just the later bit of the reception, actually."

Scorpius was surprised he had even noticed. "I'm fine. Just a headache."

"Hmm." His father had the courtesy to look concerned for a second. Then, he turned away to study a painting on the wall. "You seemed to have enjoyed yourself today."

Scorpius failed to see where this was leading and wished his father would just jump to the point. He sighed, sitting down at his desk and waited.

"Saw you dancing with the Yardley girl. She's smart, beautiful too."

Scorpius blinked, and then burst out laughing. Draco viewed him with calm patience until he regained his composure, breathing heavily. "Dad, please don't ever presume that you can have an actual conversation with me about girls."

"Why not?"

Scorpius shook his head slightly, the edge of his lips still turned up. "Okay, what is this about? Why this sudden interest in my romantic life?"

Draco shrugged defensively. "I was simply making an observation, Scorpius."

"All right, then. Observation made. I'm very tired, so can I--?"

"No, no, tell me more about this girl. What is her name, Gwen?"

Scorpius's eyes narrowed ever so little as he gave his father a slow nod.

"Fifth year Slytherin?"

"Yes."

"Do you… like her?"

It was obvious how much pain it was causing Draco to have this conversation with his son. Though his stance was just as arrogant and composed as it always was, Scorpius noticed how his eyes remained fixed on the cuff of his shirt as he fiddled with the button there. He supposed it was somewhat of a surprise as well as a pleasure to see him squirm this way—never had he shown… _weakness_ like this—but it was just as annoying. Scorpius took a deep breath and sighed, "I don't know, dad. She's pretty and that's about it."

Draco nodded. "I also saw you speaking with… the _Weasley_ girl."

Scorpius almost sighed with relief. So _that's_ what this was about. He smiled up at his father, intent on making the most of this situation now that his father had taken so much care to approach it in a way he though appropriate. Apparently it was a little more important to him than Scorpius would have thought. "Yes, I spoke to _Rose_."

"Yes, Rose," Draco repeated. "She… er… was the maid of honor, was she not?"

"Yes," Scorpius replied. "She told me she was going to be—was very excited for it, too."

Draco's ears turned red and his jaw tightened. "You are friends with this girl?"

"Oh, yes," Scorpius nodded enthusiastically. How was his father even falling for this? He could hear his own sarcasm as though it were a separate entity of its own screaming for attention. "_Really_ good friends."

He knew why that notion was bothering his father so much. Since he entered Hogwarts, there was only one ideology that his father had subconsciously tried to force into Scorpius's brain: never be friendly to the Weasleys or the Potters. They were of lower status than the Malfoys, of course—Hermione Weasley was Muggle-born which put her, her children, and the rest of her family on the same level as slugs and earthworms. And if that was not reason enough to hate them, his father had a personal tiff with Harry Potter during the Second Wizardly War. Okay, so it was more than just a tiff. They had been arch-nemesis since the second they met during their first year and the fact that Harry's personal statement in support of Draco's character had kept him out of prison after the war apparently had not made up for that. Instead, it had caused Draco to hate them all that much more. He did not like to rely on anyone, especially not _them_.

He sat down at the edge of Scorpius's bed and gave him a calculating look. "You know I do not appreciate them, son. They are not… _worthy_ of our affection," Draco told him carefully.

Scorpius stared at him blankly. "Affection?"

"I'm not blind. I saw how you look at her."

Apparently, he _was_ blind.

"She is not suitable for you at all! None of them deserve your attention. I shudder to think what could happen—"

"Why not, Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you think she is not suitable for me? She's pretty—more than pretty, she's _beautiful_. Much better than Gwen Yardley. And she's just as smart as I am, if not smarter—"

Draco's face turned harder and harder as Scorpius spoke the words—embellishing them with fake emotion. What a sight to see, he thought with sadistic pleasure.

"So, please explain to me why she is not suitable for me."

Draco gritted his teeth, not missing the sarcasm this time. "Do you not trust your father enough to believe his judgment?"

"Absolutely not," Scorpius replied easily.

"Don't push me, Scorpius. You _will not_ associate with the Weasleys or the Potters anymore." Draco quickly rose to his feet and headed for the door but Scorpius stopped him.

"So, when you interact with them politely in public… that's all just a façade to keep your ass out of prison, is that right, Dad?"

Draco froze so swiftly that it was as though a spell had hit him. Slowly, he turned on the spot, red with fury. "Do not speak about things you know nothing of."

"Right," Scorpius chuckled humorlessly. "That's your answer for everything, isn't it? Just shut me up long enough so that you can get on with your life? I think you're mistaking me for Ursil."

"Of course not. You make that impossible with your continued disobedience."

"Hmm… guess I have more of a conscience then you thought I did."

"Do you find it _funny_ to mock me?" Draco slowly crossed his arms. "Do not forget that I am your father. I made you who you are whether you like it or not."

Scorpius felt his lips tighten.

"Oh, yes," Draco nodded, "I know that makes you angry. It infuriates you that everywhere you walk, you are perceived as _my_ son. You are not Scorpius Malfoy, you are Mr. Draco Malfoy's _son_. At the end of the day—if you chose to follow in my footsteps, the praise shall be mine, and you will be miserable. If you chose any other path, you will only be met by those who scorn you as the son of an ex-Death Eater, and _that_… ha! That will only be a living hell for you."

Scorpius was frozen with fury as he looked into his father's cold eyes. It was a face that he so often saw in the mirror—the pointed chin, the stubborn jaw, and the chilled gray eyes. He also saw composure there, enhanced by not a bit of arrogance in the way his chin was always raised just a fraction of an inch and the way he looked down the perfect slope of his nose at anyone around him. Seeing that face in the mirror—it sickened Scorpius beyond reason. He had always hated being the picture of his father in his youth. It served only as a reminder that he could never truly escape him. As much as he loathed admitting it, what his father spoke was completely true. He saw it every day in the way his fellow Slytherins viewed him with awe and reverence. He saw it whenever he met a stranger—instant recognition of the name 'Malfoy' with either fear or disgust. He saw it every time he looked into Rose Weasley's eyes.

All amusement and politeness had slipped from Draco's face as he looked at his son now. "You will _not_ interact with the Weasleys and the Potters. That is not a request."

With that, he turned on his heel and apparated out of the room. Scorpius stared at the spot he had been in, his breath even but shallow. His hand shook at his side, but he fought for control. He did not know how long he sat there, waiting for the anger to leave. He was no stranger to interactions like these with his father. His incredible control of his own emotions had earned him an awed respect among his peers and everywhere else, but with his father… Draco Malfoy was the only one who could push his son beyond reason. With a snarl, he snatched his ink bottle off of his desk and threw it at the mirror on the wall. Both objects shattered to pieces, splattering the pale cream paint with trails and splotches of blue. He felt no remorse as he turned on the spot and apparated far, far away from the home that he hated.

(0)

ROSE:

Rose hated leaving home. She absolutely loved Hogwarts and often got used to the separation from home almost instantaneously but the train station was the worst part--the hugs and the kisses, how forlorn her father always looked as he waved her goodbye, and just the overwhelming desire for the full-family fun to continue on just a little bit longer. She had known this one was going to be especially hard considering how much excitement they'd had over the month of break.

Rose pulled her oversized sweater-shawl close around her, shivering in the chill of January, as she stepped into the train. She turned around in the doorway, watching her family wistfully--Mum, Dad, Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, and this time, Teddy and Tory had come to see them off too. She smiled softly as Ted put his arm around Tory almost as though he felt a constant need to be physically attached to her at all times now that they were married. It wasn't much different before that either. She beamed up at him sideways and he kissed her cheek. They were going to head off for their honeymoon across Europe soon. Rose couldn't be happier for them and at the same time, separation seemed long and painful. She wished the train would start moving already so that she could get to Hogwarts, get busy with school and look forward to summer when they would all be reunited again.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her by the waist, jerking her forward and almost pushing her off the train. She screamed, surprised by the sudden assault, but Albus had a firm grip around her and pulled her back into the train safely, laughing. She rolled her eyes, calming her heartbeat. At least she had Albus, she thought with a grudging smile. He looked out from over her shoulder and waved goodbye as the train began to move.

"Bye, Mum! Make sure dad doesn't cry like he did last time--!"

Harry took absolutely no offense to his son's remark as Ginny elbowed him in the ribs. With a wide smile, he waved goodbye to them all.

"Love you!" Rose grinned at them all. Finally, they pulled around the corner and the station disappeared. The gloom started to disappear almost instantaneously and with a large sigh, she turned around.

"You're not going to start crying, are you?" Albus asked doubtfully.

"Albus, have you ever seen me cry in your life?" Rose lifted her eyebrow.

"Yeah, actually. You were seven. Fell off your broom at Grandma's and broke your arm."

Rose remembered the incident at the Burrow with a grimace. No wonder she hated flying so much. "Thanks for reminding me." She walked past him and back to the compartment where they had loaded their trunks. He followed.

"I'm actually looking forward to going back to Hogwarts," Rose admitted. Inside the compartment, Lily and Hugo were bent over some piece of parchment that laid out on the seat between them, completely absorbed in their own little world. Rose fell into the seat next to the window and Albus sat across from her.

"Really?" he asked with a quirk to his eyebrow. "Let me guess--the first place you want to visit is the library."

Peevishly, she grinned. "Yeah..."

He looked exasperated beyond words, but she was quick to explain herself. "No, no, Albus, you don't get it!" She lowered her voice and leaned forward. "I actually talked to the portrait of Professor Dumbledore on the fourth floor of Grimmauld Place!"

"_The_ Professor Dumbledore? I even forgot his portrait was up there."

"Me too," she admitted, "but I wandered up there on the day Ted and Tory got married and I told him about the disappearance of magic."

Albus winced. "You told a talking, moving _painting_ that magic was disappearing?"

She pursed her lips impatiently. "Painting or not, Albus Dumbledore will forever be the greatest wizard that the Wizarding world has known!"

"Okay!" Albus threw up his hands defensively. "I agree, but--a _painting_!"

"Just listen. I told him about what was happening--or at least what I thought was happening--and I completely expected him to laugh about it, but he didn't! He actually looked thoughtful for a moment and muttered something about 'it being time already' and then he suggested this book for me to read. I think I can find my answers in this book."

Albus looked slightly dumbfounded. "A painting gave you advice about a book."

Wow. Never realized how stupid that sounded. "Yes," she replied stubbornly.

"And you think this painting's advice will be the solution to all your problems?"

"Yes!"

"And you think this book will tell you how to stop magic from disappearing--assuming that it is."

He doubted her. Her eyes narrowed and he immediately knew what she was thinking. He shook his head, trying to clarify his point, "Don't get all defensive on me--I'm not the only one who remembers what Pixies are so it will take me time to wrap my head around this one."

Fair enough.

"Albus, if these things are actually happening... hypothetically speaking, if Pixies did exist and everyone except for me has forgotten about them... don't you think it's worth giving this book a shot in order to save magic? I mean--who knows?--we might as well be on the path to forgetting every last ounce of magic in the world. We might be on the path to becoming Muggles--all of us--and we have no idea how long we have before that happens. Doesn't that scare you?"

Albus shrugged. "_If_ it's true, it worries me a little, but what's meant to happen will happen, Rose."

"Well, maybe I'm meant to fix this. Maybe that's why I'm the only one who remembers." Why was she so eager to solve this mystery? The disappearance of magic was a scary enough prospect, but there was some sort of urgency burning within her to _know_ what was happening and find out the reasons behind it. It went beyond protecting magic and her community and their way of living--it was something deeper. Much deeper. She just didn't know what, but she would find out.

Albus still looked somewhat unsure, but he understood reason when it smacked him in the face. "Okay," he nodded. "We'll find this book then and... see where it goes from there."

"_We_ will?" Rose asked with a grin, but more hope and anticipation to her voice.

Albus shrugged. "You're the book-worm, but I can't let you take credit for saving the world if something does come out of this in the end, now can I?"

Her grin widened. It helped knowing Albus was with her on this one... as he always was. She fell back into her chair and looked out of the window. The world blurred past them in streaks of snow-white and brown. She felt excitement course through her body at the same speed as though they were rushing towards something entirely too delectable to handle.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, her excitement was quickly crumbling into frustration as she repeatedly sent parchment after parchment in every section of the library in search for The Tales of the Aruichi. Each returned to her, scarlet red, with the words 'Not Available' printed on it. Albus lay sprawled across a stiff wooden chair, snoring slightly. She kicked the leg of the chair to wake him up and he spluttered.

"I don't know what to do--the book's not here."

"No," Albus replied slowly. He picked up one of the several discarded scarlet parchments from the pile at his feet. "It 'doesn't exist' according to the library searches."

"It exists--of course it exists," Rose sighed. She fell into a chair next to him. How could it not exist? Albus Dumbledore—_the_ wisest wizard of their era had sent her searching for it. He would know if the book existed or not if he had suggested it--it was just ridiculous to think that it couldn't. "Maybe it just doesn't exist in this library."

"Or any other magical library or else these parchments would have said so," Albus reminded her calmly.

Rose scowled, looking out of the window as the early-morning sunshine filled the quiet grounds of the Quidditch field outside. She had been so excited to find this book that she had wanted to go to the library last night itself as soon as they had arrived. The library had been closed last night, however, as Mr. Trench had decided to spend the day at home and return for the beginning of classes this morning. Unable to sleep properly all night long with dreams haunted by Professor Dumbledore's portrait whispering unknown words to her and pixies flying around begging for help, she had woken promptly at five-thirty in the morning and had awoken and dragged Albus down the library. It was an hour later. No luck with the book.

Albus yawned loudly, stretching his arms into the air. "Can I go back to bed now?"

He had asked the question five times before in the past hour and she had resolutely said, "No!" every time. Now she was quite tempted herself to go back to her warm and comfortable bed. Disappointment had made room for her to feel her eyes burn with lack of sleep. "It has to be here somewhere," she sighed.

Albus didn't say anything and just stared at her with an apologetic twist to his lips. "Sorry, Rose."

She shrugged and sighed again. "You can go back to bed. I think I'll head down for an early breakfast." Sleep didn't seem very attractive to her considering the chance that she might see the pixies again and have to tell them that there's no way she can help them. Though it could all just be in her head, she still felt guilty towards the poor creatures.

She blinked. She had just considered the possibility that it was all in her head. So... did that mean she was going insane? That she had imagined all of the disappearing magic? It had been a fear that she had repressed since she had spoken to Professor Dumbledore, but it was slowly surfacing to the forefront of her mind. She chewed on the inside of her lip.

Albus patted her on the shoulder, rose to his feet, and walked out of the room. She sighed, falling back against her chair and looked despairingly into the depths of the bookshelves before her. She couldn't believe Professor Dumbledore--or even his portrait--could have been wrong about this. She hadn't imagined that conversation too, had she?

I'm _not_ going insane! She firmly told herself. Setting her jaw, she stood up again, walked over to the quill and parchment on the table before her, and tore of yet another piece to send searching. This time, she scribbled just 'Aruichi' on the parchment and waved her wand at it, saying the spell in her mind. The parchment came to life as the numerous ones before it had, fluttered in the air, and went flying through the bookshelves. She followed it, unable to suppress the desperate glimmers of hope bubbling inside of her.

That was quickly squashed when she saw that the parchment had led her to the Muggle Studies section of the library. The parchment had turned green and multiplied into two pieces which were stuck in different areas of the section. Rose sighed, debating going back to sleep herself. Half-heartedly, she walked to the nearest parchment and pulled out the book it had led her to. LOST CIVILIZATIONS OF THE WEST AND THEIR INFLUENCE OF THE MUGGLE WORLD. She frowned. Lost civilizations?

The book automatically opened up to page 698 in her hands. She scanned the writing, searching for the word Aruichi. Her heart practically stopped when she found it at the bottom of the page. She read the text quickly, flipping the pages with so much enthusiasm that they nearly tore through. "I can't believe this," she whispered. She slowly lowered herself to the ground, her back against the bookshelves, and continued reading the text.

Two hours later, she strode into her first class of the morning, Transfigurations, with a victorious smile on her face. She dropped into her seat next to Albus towards the front of the class. "Don't tell me--you found something?" Albus leaned forward, looking too surprised for her liking.

"Of course I did," Rose replied. She pulled out several pieces of parchment that she had copied over from the books with a wave of her wand. "I couldn't find the book here because it's not Magical. It's based in Muggle myths. But the Aruichi--they definitely were not Muggle. Their origins in Magic go back to the origins of Earth!"

Albus's eyes scanned the sheets, pausing on the pictures of the cave-carvings describing the legend of the Aruichi which Rose had found quite fascinating herself. "So what does this have to do with the disappearance of Magic?"

Rose couldn't stop smiling as she leaned forward even more in enthusiasm. "The Aruichi were known as the Protectors of Magic. They forever served this one being called the 'Keeper' who nourishes and maintains Magic throughout the world."

She was glad to see that her excitement was spreading to Albus as well as his eyes twinkled on the pages. He finally looked up, surprised. "Way cool. But if these guys are ithe protectors of Magic, why aren't they in any of our textbooks and what-not?"

"That's because they fell apart a long long long long _long_ time ago. I mean... even before Magic was recognized to be what it is. Before people started harnessing its power and actually using it. So eventually, people just forgot about them and thought they were myth. It didn't help that the Keeper had abandoned them."

"Abandoned? What do you mean?"

Rose felt her smile drop. "Well..." She admitted rather sheepishly, "...that's where the books stopped. There were like barely twenty pages on these guys put together and most of it was absolute drivel about how the Muggles took the Aruichi and twisted them into a Native American tribe and use their name as tourist-attraction. Let me tell you, the author was _not_ a big fan of the Muggles and how they apparently ignore every sign of pure Magic around them."

Albus sighed, his gaze returning to the parchments she had handed him. "So, that's it then? This is where it ends?"

"No," Rose shook her head, "because that book still exists. I used the computer in the Muggle Studies section of the library to look for it. There are very few copies of it because it's perceived as some children's tale, but I found it in a bookstore in Arrowhead, Virginia."

"Then call for it!"

"I can't call for it! That's stealing."

"Oh, come on--you'll return it after you use it."

Rose shook her head. "I can't do that, Albus. Besides, it's across the ocean--slightly more difficult to call for a book which I have never seen before, don't know the exact location of the bookstore, don't know anything about where it's kept and all of that from across the ocean."

"So what do you suggest we do?"

She took a deep breath. "I want to go to Virginia."

(0)

Albus was still snickering as they wandered down to their Care of Magical Creatures class two hours later. "Just imagining your Mum... still cracking me up. 'Oh, hey, Mum, I was wondering if it's all right if I up and leave for Virginia in the middle of the school year. Why? Oh, just to go search for a book that has nothing to do with my classes. NEWTs? Ah, who cares about them anyway? They don't _actually_ determine the rest of my life--'"

Rose chewed on her bottom lip. "I forgot about the NEWTs."

"_You_ forgot about the NEWTs?!"

"What's so shocking about that?"

"You've been preparing for them since you got done taking your OWLs two years ago."

Rose scowled. "You make me sound like some sort of grade-crazy maniac--"

"Like your Mum? Definitely."

"Ablus!"

"I'm just telling you the truth. There is absolutely no way that Aunt Hermione's letting you go through with this one--"

"It'll only take at most a weekend to go there, search for the book, and bring it back."

"Mm-mm. She will flip, I assure you. I mean, the NEWTs are only a month away!"

Before Christmas, Rose would've felt worms in her gut at the very mention of the examinations. Now, she could hardly care. "We have to convince her somehow."

"We? Rose, I'm taking three NEWTs myself in February. I'd rather stay back and study for them a little too." Albus looked beyond mortified to be forced to admit that piece of truth. Rose quirked her eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything in response. It wasn't exactly a secret that Albus worked nearly as hard as her to maintain his grades, whether he liked it or not to admit it freely to the public.

"But the protection of magic... versus your NEWTs? Think about your priorities, Albus."

"I'm thinking, but I still don't see your Mum agreeing to it. She probably wouldn't even believe you--"

"Of course she'll believe me--I have proof!"

"Oh? What proof?"

"You forgot about Pixies, Albus!"

"And I'm willing to bet that she did too."

Rose stopped in her tracks as they approached the class which was seated in a clearing in the snow close to the shade of the forest. She hadn't thought about that before... her mother forgetting about Pixies too. Hermione had always been... well... brilliant to simply put it. One of the smartest after Albus Dumbledore himself, according to the entire Magical community. She forgetting Magic had not been a possibility in Rose's mind. However, she realized now that there was a very good chance--if not a surity--that she probably didn't know what was going on either. "You're right," she admitted to Albus. "Mum's not letting me go anywhere."

Albus looked slightly apologetic at the disheartened tone of her voice. After a moment, he put his arm around her and led the rest of the way to the class. "Here's an idea," he said in hushed tones. "How about we stick it out until our NEWTs—just one more month? We can stay for the commencement and then you can suggest Virginia to your parents. I'm sure they'd be fine with you leaving after you are done with school, and then you can go for as long as you want."

As much as she hated to admit it, Albus's plan made sense. She was also immensely glad that the new options that were available to advanced students allowed them to take the NEWTs four months in advance. According to the Ministry, it allowed students more time to pursue internships and further studies earlier than if they were to take their NEWTs in June. It also gave them the opportunity to retake the examinations were they to have gotten less-than-satisfactory scores. Rose was not very worried about the second. She already knew her scores would be satisfactory for the internship in Peru, but she had still signed up to take them early—just in case. She sighed now, very glad that she had chosen to do so, and nodded as they sat down. "You'll come with me, right?"

Albus scoffed. "Erm…" He began slowly as though he was giving the question considerable thought. "I think I'd rather stay behind for the Norway _Quidditch_ tournament?"

Rose had forgotten about that. "You're kidding me, right?"

Albus scoffed again. "It's Quidditch, Rose! I'm surprised _you're_ willing to leave!"

"B-but—you get to travel!"

"I get to travel even if I'm going to Norway."

"But it's the Americas! You've never been there before, and besides, this is about the you-know-what with the you-know-whos!" she snarled the last words under her breath.

Albus looked somewhat torn. "Yeah… but Quidditch!"

"Virginia!"

"Virginia? What's up with Virginia?" Jamie had just walked up to the crowd. She dropped to the ground and flipped a strand of black hair over her shoulder as she turned to look at them with large, chocolate-brown eyes.

"Oh, nothing," Rose shrugged quickly, reaching for her backpack so she didn't have to look Jamie in the eye. "I thought I knew someone who lived in Virginia, that's all."

"Of course you do," Jamie grinned. "I live in Virginia!"

Rose and Albus both turned to her in surprise and at the same time asked, "You do?"

Jamie looked somewhat confused but she smiled and nodded. "Yes?"

"Oh, t-that's terrific," Rose replied rather lamely. She cleared her throat and turned back to her backpack.

Albus leaned towards her as inconspicuously as possible. "Erm… when are we leaving for Virginia again?" He whispered.

Rose had to fight to hold the laughter down. She turned to look at him with a smirk on her face. "Oh, it's 'we' now?"

Albus shrugged, his ears reddening ever so slightly. "Can't send you wandering through foreign countries all on your own, now can I?"


End file.
